


When Pandora's Box Is Opened

by Mangaluva



Series: When Pandora's Box Is Opened [1]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Loads and Loads of Characters - Freeform, Multi, also a buttload of cameo OCs, also warning for hella long fic, oldfic, only really fits canon up to chapter 698, so I decided to go over it to fix all my grammar and construction sins, so I wrote this a long time ago and people still read it somehow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:57:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 90
Words: 241,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3128702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mangaluva/pseuds/Mangaluva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After two long years as Conan, the time has finally come for the ancient battle to come to an end, and fate will determine whether the Silver Bullet will survive the shot, unless Shinichi can put his faith in the enemy that was destined to be his ally...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue--What Came Before

**Author's Note:**

> Tidied-up and better-edited repost of the first major fic I ever wrote since it seems like it did nae bad. Originally written and posted 2008-2009. I still occasionally get reviews from people saying that they've read through it and loved it--there's even a Vietnamese translation and a doujinshi version in progress--so I felt like I needed to go back through it and fix all the grammar and construction errors I've learned not to make since ^_^; Also features a large group of characters based on myself and my friends in high school that are here because this fic started as a one-off murder mystery starring us as the suspects. (Looking back on it now, it's kinda sad how many of these people I'm not in touch with any more...) anyway, I hope they're not intrusive and that the fic is still enjoyable despite being outdated :)
> 
> An incredible, wonderful, spectacular artist called Soc Nau has been making this fic into a doujinshi! It's ongoing in English and Vietnamese, so please check it out on her deviantart, kittynt15! Her artwork is incredible, and she's really brought the story to life :D
> 
> This story is also now being translated into Polish! Check it out here: https://www.wattpad.com/story/73285618-gdy-puszka-pandory-jest-otworzona

**_ Ten Years Before Pandora _ **

The crowd screamed and cheered as the last of the doves exploded out of Kuroba Toichi’s hat and flew around the ceiling of the theatre with the others. Toichi’s sharp ears picked up a high whistle, almost too high to be heard, and he glanced slightly sideways with a smile. The doves, as one, flew down to the offstage area and the whistler. Kaito giggled as he was suddenly engulfed in feathers. Chikage smiled gently as she helped their son lure the doves back into their cages.

Toichi allowed himself a warm smile as he turned his attention back to his audience. Chikage hadn’t smiled like that a lot lately. But soon, it would all be over. Tonight, after the show... this was _it_ , it had to be, nothing else had matched the story so perfectly...

Then, finally, Toichi would be free.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he called, causing the cheering to instantly die down. “It’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for...” the crowd started cheering again as they realized what he was about to perform, the one trick that had quickly become his most famous. A little girl in the front row squealed.

“You’ll finally get to see it, Tou-san!” she squealed. “It’s amazing!”

Toichi saw a waving Kaito get yanked behind the curtain again by Chikage. Toichi continued to smile. He’d caught Ginzo’s eye a couple of times during the show. The two of them had been friends—and, although Nakamori Ginzo didn’t know it, rivals—for years, but this was the first time Ginzo had seen him perform (on stage, anyway). It was a good thing Ginzo was spending some time with his daughter, Toichi figured. The man so rarely did, even though his wife had died years ago. Kaito had insisted on giving Aoko free tickets to get him to come with her, which Toichi didn’t have a problem with. The presence of police normally made him a little uncomfortable, of course, but when his family was around, the presence of the law made him just a little more comfortable...

“When I snap my fingers,” he called, “with a flash of light, I will vanish. I will travel through time and space...”

“ _Two minutes of time and several back corridors of space,_ ” Yukiko’s husband had once commented. Kudo Yuusaku was definitely sharper than your average novelist, a contrast to the sweet, trusting but slightly airheaded Yuki-chan he’d taught role-play to. “ _And she had to marry the one man that_ really _gives me a hard time..._ ”

Well, that was almost over now. With any luck, soon he’d be able to destroy _that_ room. Every night now, he set the time-lock, always hoping that it would never be necessary, that Kaito would never have to know.

The crowd had set up a countdown chant. He tapped his foot in time to the descending numbers. The countdown to the final trick...

“ _5...4...3..._ ”

Toichi glanced up at the gallery. For a second, he wondered why his gaze was drawn to the audience there. Then he saw _him_.

“ _2.._. _1_...”

He was smiling. Toichi’s smile froze.

“ _0!_ ”

There was a flash of light from the flashbombs on the ground, a blast of smoke from the smoke-machines built into the stage, and the ground vanished as Toichi fell through the trapdoor.

 _Halfway_ through.

The crowd was screaming again, but this time there were no cheers.

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**__ **

**_ Two and a half Years Before Pandora _ **

Kaito was still awake as the sun rose—not that he could see it, inside the hidden room. He sat on a dusty old desk chair, twirling the white silk top hat slowly in his hands.

_Tou-san... You were..._

He stared, almost unseeing, at the painting which concealed the hidden doorway, turned so that it was the benevolent smile of Kuroba Toichi that looked down on him, not the belligerent smirk of the Kaitou Kid.

_You were a thief..._

Yesterday evening—it seemed like a million years ago, now—he’d spoken so confidently to Jii when the old man had revealed the truth, proudly proclaiming himself the new Kaitou Kid. Lucky his father had taught him such a good Poker Face. The old man had been completely fooled.

 _So had I,_ he thought, smiling grimly as his gaze dropped to the white suit that he still wore. _So was... everyone..._

How could he reconcile both sides of the painting? His father and the international criminal? So different, In Kaito’s mind, and yet, they were the same person...

 _You never told me, Tou-san, but now I know anyway,_ He mused. _I know the truth. I hate knowing it. I don’t_ want _to know that you’re a thief... but... if I forgot tomorrow, that wouldn’t change anything, would it? You would still have been a thief... and your death still wouldn’t have been an accident._

What was it that shook him up more? The truth about Kuroba Toichi’s life, or the truth about his death? Kaito had gone in circles for hours, wondering if he was dreaming, if it was a trick, an illusion... and yet, he always came to the conclusion that it must be the truth, and he didn’t know what to do about that. Was he ever supposed to have known? He must have—his father’s voice had been speaking to _him_ on that tape. But the tape had been degraded by eight years, so Kaito didn’t know the full content of it. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to ever have known, and the tape was simply a failsafe in case he found the room. How could he know? He couldn’t bring himself to go and talk to Jii again. The old man had clearly been in reverence of Kuroba Toichi, and while Kaito figured that Jii would tell him the truth, it would be a rose-tinted truth—if there was anything dark behind Kuroba Toichi and the Kaitou Kid, Jii would hide it from him. Kaito didn’t want or need that. He needed the truth. But who could give it to him? He’d thought he knew his father, but he’d only been a child at his father’s death. Jii had been an adult, and one of his father’s dearest friends. Who else had known his father so well?

Kaito suddenly jerked his head up, staring at the ceiling, mentally summoning a map of the house. Where this room was... his parents’ room should be directly above it. _Kaa-san... you’d give me the truth, wouldn’t you?_

He stood, placing the hat on the desk and reaching up to undo his tie. Every movement was slow, measured, careful, delicately procrastinating the moment when he confronted his mother. He longed for the truth, but he also feared it.

 _Tuesday..._ _I’d better just change back into my uniform,_ he thought, carefully steering his mind away from the “what ifs” of the impending conversation. _I mean, I don’t know for certain whether or not Kaa-san really knows. If she actually didn’t, it might freak her out just a little if the Kaitou Kid walks into her room... and if she does know, it might freak her out that little bit more..._

Finally dressed, he walked over to the painting. _Now, how did I do this_..? He reached up to the top corner of the painting, carefully pressing the spot that he’d leaned on the previous night. The gentle pressure set off the interior mechanism, but this time he was ready. He grabbed the revolving door, holding it steady so that it didn’t fling him through again, and carefully walked himself around back into the study.

Now he saw the rising sun through the window. It illuminated Kuroba Chikage, who had fallen asleep, curled up in an armchair by the hidden door. Kaito stared at her for a long moment, forgetting what he’d wanted to ask.

 _Kaa-san... you knew, didn’t you?_ he thought, sitting himself quietly down on another armchair. _And you remembered... what happened to Tou-san... were you scared that the same would happen to me?_ _That I, too, would be...?_

Chikage stirred slight, then looked up, blinking blearily, before her gaze suddenly focused on her son. She gasped sharply and sat upright

“Kaito!” she cried, getting up. She flung her arms around Kaito as he stood up too. “Thank Kami... Aoko was here looking for you, but just as she was leaving, I heard a strange sound, and when I saw that the painting had turned, I realized... you found it... and I thought...”

“Thought I was going to get murdered, too?” Kaito said softly, hugging her back. She went rigid in his arms, before beginning to cry gently.

“I’m so sorry, Kaito,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry I never told you. T-Toichi said he didn’t want you to know, but he feared t-that you would, someday. I j-just didn’t want them to kill you, too...”

“It’s okay, Kaa-san,” Kaito said, “Jii told me he was murdered, he just didn’t know who. I know you were just scared that they’d kill me too, that’s why you didn’t tell me. I understand. It’s just... I have to know.” The pulled away from each other, and Kaito looked his mother straight in the eye, summoning up his unwavering Poker Face

“Why?” he said finally. “Not why didn’t you tell me... why was he a thief? Why did he start? Did you always know?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “I knew from… well, to be honest, it was how I met him.” She sighed, then smiled in an oddly nervous way, biting her lip like a child holding back giggles. “Let’s just say I was hardly in a position to condemn him for theft. And once he told me what was going on, I knew I had to help him.”

“What was it?” Kaito asked again. Chikage looked out of the window, chewing at her lips as she decided what to say, her smile fading.

“There is an organization,” she said eventually. “I don’t know much about them. Neither of us ever did, really. But eighteen years ago...”

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**__ **

**_ Two Years Before Pandora _ **

He slipped silently past the employee entrances to various attractions, pressing up against the wall as he carefully peeked around the corner to the empty area beneath a rollercoaster. He jerked back to the corner as he spotted the two men; the flustered-looking owner of Tropical Land, and the suspicious man in black from the rollercoaster.

“Here!” the theme park owner cried, opening his suitcase. “It’s all here!!”

 _Whoa!_ Shinichi thought in shock, staring at the massed stacks of notes in the case. _There’s got to be a hundred million yen in there..._

He silently pulled out his disposable camera as the talk turned to gun smuggling. There were a lot of shots of he and Ran in the camera, all over Tropical Land, but there should still be about fifteen pictures left...

“Shut up! Compared to what _your_ Syndicate does, I haven’t done anything—”

“Enough of that talk if you know what’s good for ya.”

Shinichi shrank back as he realized that the man in dark glasses was reaching into his suit and pulling out a gun. Shinichi clicked the camera a couple more times, thankful that there wasn’t a flash on it and hoping that the pictures came out alright. The grass rustled behind him.

“I don’t have to take this anymore!”

Shinichi took another couple of pictures. _Damn... if he fires that gun, do I just sit here and take photos? But I can’t let him murder that guy..._

“That’s it, kid...”

Shinichi suddenly became aware that someone was standing behind him. A second later, he became quite painfully aware that that someone had what felt like a length of lead pipe.

“No more playing detective for _you_!”

Shinichi’s world exploded into pain as he was hit in the back of the head. He slumped to the grass, half-conscious, only dimly aware of the sharp throbbing of his skull and a warm trickle as blood dripped down his face.

The men were talking. Muzzily, Shinichi tried to focus on what they were saying.

“... new poison that the Syndicate developed...”

He felt a hand grip him by the hair and pulling him up to a sitting position. He tried to resist, but the tug on his hair caused fresh waves of pain to radiate from his head, incapacitating the rest of his body.

“...untraceable in the body...”

Something was put into his mouth. He couldn’t even swallow, but he felt some liquid washing the small... _whatever_ down his throat. It blazed a trail of fire behind it.

“Still in development... never been used on humans...”

He slumped to the ground as the hand let go. The fire was spreading from his throat to his stomach, and from there to the rest of his body. He forced his eyes to move, to look up at the retreating black figures. For a second, his vision focused, and he saw him; the one with the long silver hair and the eyes of a killer. He smiled as Shinichi burned.

“So long, Meitantei,” he said, before turning and vanishing. Shinichi tried to reach out, as if he could grab him and cuff the bastard, but he couldn’t move. The fire had overwhelmed him, and it was melting his bones...

 _Should’ve listened to Ran,_ he thought vaguely as his consciousness slipped, remembering her voice calling after him not to go. _Ran..._

And he fell into cool, comforting darkness.

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**__ **

**_ Six Months Before Pandora _ **

_The Iron Tanuki’s not in the papers, huh? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised..._ Kaito thought with a frown as he flipped through the newspaper. _Jirokichi-jiisan’s gotta be pretty embarrassed._ _I guess it_ was _kinda pathetic... almost a literal interpretation of “open the box with the crowbar that you will find inside”…_ his thoughts were cut off by a hand suddenly forcing his paper down onto the desk.

“Sensei’s here!” Aoko hissed, standing up. “Pay attention! Honestly...”

“Good morning to you too, Aoko...” he muttered, standing up and bowing with everyone else as the teacher entered the classroom.

“All right, everybody, first things first—I have some good news!” she said. “A new student is joining this class today—or, should I say, returning to us, after his long stay overseas...”

 _Oh, no..._ Kaito thought, glad that his Poker Face was second nature. _Please tell me it’s not..._

“Welcome back, Hakuba-kun,” the teacher said, smiling at the blond boy who had walked through the door and was now bowing to the class.

_...Him._

“I graduated early from my courses in England,” Hakuba Saguru said, “And so I thought it best to return to Japan for the remainder of the High School year. After all, with my educational future already assured, I can devote myself to dealing with crime here in Tokyo... Particularly my old nemesis...”

His arrogant sapphire eyes locked on Kaito, who briefly entertained the thought of yanking them out during a heist.

“...Kaitou Kid.”


	2. The Beginning Of The End

**_ Two Months before Pandora _ **

“ _Tears stood in her eyes/ Please don’t cry/ Forever still for you, still for your love..._ ”

“That’s great, Ran!” Sonoko cheered as the song died away. “All right! My turn...”

“Conan-kun, don’t you want to sing?” Ran asked, passing Sonoko the microphone. The boy shook his head.

“I’ll pass,” he said, turning a page of the detective novel that he was reading. The other kids sniggered.

“It wouldn’t be a good idea if Conan-kun sang, anyway,” Mitsuhiko commented with a giggle.

“Too-oone dee-eeaf,” Genta hooted, laughing. Conan glared at the pair of them for a moment before returning to his novel.

“It’s not Conan-kun’s fault that he’s tone deaf!” Ayumi defended hotly, throwing her arms around the neck of the boy in question, who yelped and turned red. Mitsuhiko and Genta’s smiles instantly vanished. “Anyway, Sonoko-neechan, you’ve been twice already. Can I have another go?”

“Sure,” Sonoko said, sitting down again. “Sing some Two mix! You’ve got such a cute voice, Ayumi-chan.”

“There needs to be two people for Two Mix,” Ayumi said, letting go of Conan. The second her back was turned, Mitsuhiko and Genta resumed picking on Conan. “I know! Ai-chan, will you sing with me?”

“Ah! That’s right,” Ran said, smiling at the solemn girl. “You haven’t sung yet, have you? Would you like to?”

“I bet you have a beautiful voice, Haibara-san,” Mitsuhiko said, leaving Conan alone for a chance to score points. Haibara Ai just shrugged.

“I guess,” she said. Ayumi squealed with glee and grabbed the other girl’s arm, pulling her up to the stage.

“That’s great, Ai-chan!” she said happily. “Look, they have _TRUTH_!”

Ai smiled gently as Ayumi chattered about the songs. The sight was a rare one, but becoming a little less so.

With the girls out of the way, Genta and Mitsuhiko had resorted to stealing Conan’s book. Genta dangled it over the shorter boy’s head as Conan gave the pair of them Evil Eyes.

“Love dramas in third-graders... I don’t know whether to find that cute or scary,” Sonoko giggled.

Ran had to laugh. “Doesn’t it give you déjà vu, though?” she said, sighing nostalgically. “I mean, do you remember the first time we ever did karaoke?”

“We were about their age, weren’t we?” Sonoko remembered. “Seven or eight... Kudo-kun’s parents brought us, right?”

“Yes, and we got extra time free when Yukiko-obachan started singing, remember?” Ran said. “The joint owner had been a big fan of her, and he recognized her...”

“That was so funny!” Sonoko giggled. “Remember singing cartoon theme tunes as a duet?”

“I wonder if we were as cute as those two,” Ran said, indicating Ayumi and Ai, who were now singing a Two Mix song. Ayumi was bouncing about while Ai stood still, singing in a pleasant and surprisingly melodic voice.

Sonoko snorted. “Cuter, I should say,” she said. “After all, _I_ was there...”

Ran started laughing again. “But remember what happened when Shinichi started singing?” she sighed.

“How could you remind me?” Sonoko groaned. “I worked so hard to forget...”

“I wonder why he’s so terrible,” Ran giggled. “I mean, Yukiko-obachan’s singing was so beautiful...”

“Well, Kudo-kun’s Otou-san didn’t sing, did he?” Sonoko theorized. “Could have got it from him... or maybe he’s just a talentless freak of nature when it comes to music.” For some reason, Conan glared at Sonoko for a second.

“ _...’Cause the answer is YOUR OWN SELF_!” Ayumi and Ai finished in sync, as the last notes of the song played out. Mitsuhiko and Genta stopped bedevilling Conan, opting to cheer, blushing a little, for the girls.

“That was lovely!” Sonoko said. “You two are _so_ cute as a duo!”

“Thank you,” Ai said quietly, sitting down again.

“You two have beautiful voices,” Mitsuhiko said shyly. “Very harmonious.”

“Yeah, but we can be better!” Genta said, striding towards the mikes. “C’mon, Mitsuhiko—let’s blow ‘em away with some Lex!”

“I’ll be right back,” Ran said, standing up. “I’m just going to the restroom...”

“Good excuse,” Sonoko muttered as Genta started entering a song number. Ran saw Conan bang his book into his forehead as the first notes of “ _Bloody Venus_ ” began playing. Ran smiled sadly as she left. She could understand Conan’s aversion to the song. That case had been so sad...

 _Shinichi solved that one,_ she remembered as she entered a stall. _He hasn’t been home in quite a while... I hope he’s all right..._

As she locked her door, the stall next to her flushed. Under the gap, she saw a pair of feet in American basketball shoes—the label said “Converse”—walk over to the sinks. They were joined by a pair in black loafers.

“Margaret!” The voice said. “ **Are you all right? You don’t look happy...** ” Ran listened in confusion for a moment to the gibberish, and then realized that they were speaking English—probably foreigners. She tried to translate the sentence in her head, but the accent was a little strong.

“ **Yeah, I’m not,** ” the other woman’s voice said, “ **And that’s all your fault, isn’t it?** ”

“ **Margaret, I wasn’t trying to hurt you—”**

“ **No, you were so fired up with being righteous with your hippy buddies that you didn’t think about the _consequences_. You never do, do you? Oh, but it’s all right. Everybody loves you anyway.** ”

“ **Margaret, I’m sorry. But I wasn’t trying to** — **”**

“ **But you did.** ”

“ **Look, I’m sorry, but you can’t be pinning everything on me. I didn’t cause all of your problems. You did, and you just need someone to blame because you won’t accept responsibility, don’t you?** ”

“ **Shut up!** ”

Ran gasped as a _slap_ echoed out. The Converses staggered back. The loafers turned and strode out of the bathroom. The converses stayed where they were.

Ran slowly stood up and cautiously unlocked the stall door. She peered around it, but the girl in the Converses wasn’t facing her.

She didn’t look much more than twenty, dressed in blue jeans and a tie-dyed t-shirt in the colours of the sea. Her left hand was in her trouser pocket, her right one clutching her left cheek. Her long golden-brown hair had fallen forwards to cover her face, but she turned and swept it away as Ran left her stall.

“Um... daijoubu?” Ran asked. “ **Are you... fine**?”

The woman looked at her in shock for a moment, and then gave her a gentle smile. “I’m fine,” she said. “Just having a few friendship problems. But it’s fine.”

“Okay. I don’t suppose it’s my business,” Ran said, turning on a tap to wash her hands. The foreign woman, to her surprise, laughed.

“No, but what is a woman if not nosy, eh?” she said with a wink.

“Your Japanese is very good,” Ran said. “Do you live here?”

“Not really,” she said, “I’m on sort of an extended holiday with my friends. We thought we’d try some karaoke. Not a good idea for me, I find.” She looked over Ran’s uniform. “One of my friends spent a gap year here as an English teacher. She said it was really weird to be teaching in a high school the same year you graduated from one.”

 Ran laughed. “Well, I hope you and your friends like Japan,” she said. “And I hope your friend forgives you for... whatever.”

The foreigner smiled sadly. “Me, too. Thank you.”

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 _Thank Kami that’s over,_ Shinichi thought with a frown as they gathered up their things to leave the karaoke box. Normally, he was all right with karaoke—despite the inevitable aspersions cast upon his musical talent—but Genta and Mitsuhiko had been downright unbearable today. They always were when Ayumi was being overly clingy—something which, unless Shinichi was being overly paranoid, she always was around Ran. _You’re getting as paranoid as Haibara,_ he told himself sternly, tucking the _Saimonji_ novel into his backpack. _If you were_ that _obvious, they’d have found you by now..._

“That was fun,” Haibara commented in her usual emotionless tone. “You never sang at all.”

“Were you changing the topic there or not?” Shinichi asked suspiciously. She just shot him an evil smirk and followed Ran and Sonoko out of the door.

As they entered the hall, the noise from the next box—the biggest one, reserved for large parties—became more pronounced. The group in there were loud enough to be heard from other boxes, even though they were soundproofed. It sounded like twenty of them were singing at once.

“... ** _HEY-EY,_** ** _I WANNA BE A ROCKSTAR!”_**

There was a burst of laughter and cheering.

Sonoko snorted. “Noisy bunch,” she said. “What was that they were singing, anyway? It didn’t sound Japanese...”

“I think I heard that song in America, a few years ago,” Ran said. “What was it called...?”

The shouting suddenly increased in volume, and then the door burst open, accompanied by a scream of “ ** _Somebody stop her!_** ”

Shinichi jumped backwards as someone barrelled out of the door, only to be instantly tackled by two flying figures. The people in the box started laughing.

“ **You can’t escape, Bets!** ” one of them called. “ **Give up the mic!** ”

“ **Noooo! I want to sing!** ” the woman on the ground cried.

“Hey! You lot!” The manager bellowed. “You’ve paid for two more hours but if you disturb the other customers you’re going out _now_!”

Two women rushed out of the room, one of them bowing and apologising to the manager while the other alternated between bowing and turning around to yell “ **Bets! Johnny! Shaun! Get back in the box NOW**!” The bower had long golden-brown hair and a lot of necklaces that jangled when she bowed, while the shouter had shorter dark-brown hair and a black umbrella which she was brandishing like a weapon.

“Is that English?” Sonoko asked, all of them having stopped to stare at the unfolding spectacle. “What’s the accent?”

“Maybe it’s European? I’ve only ever heard American before,” Ran theorized. The three on the floor were getting up. One was a man whose black hair was in an unfortunate bowl-cut. He was brandishing the mic near the ceiling—not a far reach, considering how freakishly tall he was. The other man was equally tall, but his hair was longer and flopping over one eye, though the visible one was bright blue and currently filled with tears of laughter as the third figure—a short, stocky girl with a supernova of frizzy brown hair—leapt for the out-of-reach microphone. The other two girls were returning and giggling as the manager returned to the front desk.

“ **Sorry...** I mean, Gomen. We in you way?” Bowl-cut asked in very fractured Japanese.

“It’s all right,” Ran said, as the three of them made way for the kids to pass. Ran and the girl with the necklaces bowed to each other as they passed.

“Ran-neechan, do you know her?” Ayumi asked in surprise.

Ran shook her head. “I just ran into her in the bathroom, that’s all,” she explained.

“Definitely European, then,” Sonoko said. “Only in Europe will people strike up a friendship with complete strangers in the bathroom. I mean, I was in France once, and...”

Shinichi almost automatically tuned her out, unable to help listening in to the snippets of the Europeans’ conversation as the door to the box closed.

“ **So, who’s up next? Bob Dole?** ” A man’s voice, not one of the ones from the hallway.

“ **It’s illegal for me to sing in thirty states and forty countries. I’m not making it forty-one.** ” Necklace girl.

“ **Huh? Bob Dole? George, why’d you call her that?** ” Another unknown man.

“ **She responded, didn’t she?** ” The first man again, presumably “George”. The door slammed shut, and Shinichi couldn’t hear any more. He reluctantly turned his attention back to Sonoko.

“... weird, isn’t it? But in some countries there, it’s not just in the bathroom—on a train, on a bus, in an elevator...”

“If they’re speaking English, are they from Englishia?” Genta asked. Mitsuhiko sighed.

“ _England_ , Genta. It’s not the only country where they speak English, though. There’s America, Canada, and of course the rest of the United Kingdom, like Ireland and Wales and...”

“They’re from Scotland,” Shinichi said as they left the karaoke bar.

“How did you know that?” Sonoko asked in surprise. Shinichi pointed at the four minivans parked in the car park next to the bar.

“Look,” he said. “Those are definitely their cars because that box was really full, so sharing several large cars wouldn’t be strange. Also, they have right-sided steering wheels. Americans or Canadians would get a rental car with a left-sided steering wheel, since you get both here, but since those are right-sided they’re probably from Europe.”

“So how do you know they’re from Scotland?” Ayumi asked.

Ai pointed at the windows of the minivans, where a number of flags were strung up. “The blue background with a white cross,” she said. “It’s known as Saint Andrew’s cross, and it’s officially the Scottish flag. It’s not surprising that they’ve strung it up all over their cars—the Scottish are very proud of their national identity, probably some psychological spillover from the union of the Crowns in 1707. That would also explain their strange accents. Scottish-English is sometimes said to be an entirely different language. Some TV programs made in Scotland need subtitles in England and America.”

There was some silence after these two highly intellectual pronouncements. Shinichi gulped as he realized that Ran was staring at them. _Damn... did it again..._

“Conan-kun and Haibara-san know _everything_ ,” Mitsuhiko said in some awe. Haibara shrugged.

“No, I just _read_ the fact sheets we get given in Geography,” she said, staring pointedly at Genta. Everyone laughed, the odd tension instantly dispelling. Shinichi sighed in relief.

As they passed the minivans, Ayumi suddenly screamed. Mitsuhiko and Genta instantly put themselves between her and the minivan.

“What?” Ran said, turning. “What’s wrong?”

“T-th-there’s a youkai!” Ayumi screamed, pointing a trembling finger at the minivan. Shinichi glanced up at the car and beheld the terrible red figure peering through one of the windows.

“It’s the Lion Rampant,” he said. “The unofficial Scottish flag. It’s more popular among nationalists and football fans, but it’s not the official Scottish flag due to the “death to England” implications that it carries.”

“Although those are precisely _why_ it’s so popular,” Haibara commented.

Ayumi peered out at the red-and-yellow flag. “A lion?” she said. “It’s scary-looking.”

“It’s a war flag,” Ran said, “so I guess it’s supposed to look scary.”

“You know, I heard something funny about Sengoku battles between Scotland and England,” Sonoko giggled. “You know how Scottish people wore those skirts—kilts? Well, before the battles, warriors would...” She leaned over to Ran’s ear to whisper the story with a giggle. Ran gasped, blushing, and slapped Sonoko on the shoulder.

“You’re awful!” she said, stalking away, Sonoko giggling madly as she followed. Genta, Ayumi and Mitsuhiko exchanged confused glances. Shinichi and Haibara exchanged longsuffering ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I was such a weeaboo when I was sixteen


	3. The Pieces Begin To Move

_I am as honest as the day is long, so you can take it to be as true as the sky is blue that the Sunrise Ruby will be mine before its time—a jewel truly fit for a king._

_Kaitou Kid_

And then there was that damn grinning caricature.

“Aw, shit,” Heiji grumbled, slapping his forehead with the note his father had handed him. “ _Him_.”

“The Sunrise Ruby is being brought to Osaka Museum next week, Heiji,” Hattori Heizo said sternly. “Nakamori-keibu is bringing out his own unit before then. But we need to figure out this code.”

“Well, at first look, all I can get is that Kid’ll be stealin’ it pre-dawn—before sunrise, see?” Heiji said, staring at the ceiling thoughtfully. “But exactly when, I dunno...”

“Perhaps you should call Mori-san,” Heizo suggested. “After all, he’s dealt with Kid before... now go to school.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Heiji said, hopping off of the desk and reaching for his mobile as he left, but inwardly he was thinking, _It ain’t oji-san we need..._

So it wasn’t the number of the Mori Detective Agency that he dialled.

Kudo picked up after only a couple of rings. “ _Moshi moshi?”_

“Oi, Kudo,” Heiji said, stepping into his shoes in the entryway. “What’s up?”

“ _Not much, for once. What about you? Why’re you calling?”_

“’Cause our old pal with the snappy dress sense an’ a head fer heights just sent Oyaji a letter,” Heiji said. He heard Kudo’s very audible groan on the other end of the line.

“ _What’s he after_?”

“Th’ Sunrise Ruby,” Heiji said, rereading the note as he grabbed his book bag and headed out the door. “Here, I’ll read it to ya...”

“ _Wait a moment. Let me get a pen... okay. Shoot_.”

Heiji reread the note slowly, giving Kudo time to scribble down a copy, paying particular notice to which characters were used and the composition of the sentences. After he was done, there was a long, thoughtful silence on the other end of the line. Heiji grinned. Kudo loved codes. If anyone could figure out the Kid’s cryptic notes, it would be him.

“ _Hey, Hattori_ ,” Kudo finally said, “ _What’s the shortest day of the year this year_?”

“This year?” Heiji said. “December twenty-first, I think. Ah...”

“ _He said ‘as honest as the day is long’,”_ Kudo explained. “ _In English, it’s a figure of speech meant to imply that someone is very honest.”_

“My ass that thief is honest,” Heiji snorted, ambling down the road, in no hurry to meet up with Kazuha and get to school. This was more interesting.

“ _Of course_ ,” Kudo agreed. “ _A day as long as a thief is honest would have to be the shortest day of the year, wouldn’t it_?”

“Before dawn, December twenty-first...” Heiji mused. Sure enough, Kudo had easily figured out the “before its time” part.

“ _Yes, and we can presumably make it after midnight if that’s the case_ ,” Kudo decided, “ _but that’s still eight to nine hours that the Kid has time to come in, and we don’t know where from...”_

“The jewel’s bein’ displayed at Osaka Museum,” Heiji said. “Guess I’ll see ya on the twentieth, eh?”

“ _Actually, the weird thing is, I was gonna call you...”_

In Tokyo, Shinichi pored over the letter that had been in the Mori’s mailbox when they returned after Karaoke the previous evening. It was from his mother (his _real_ mother, Kudo Yukiko), something which had surprised Ran.

“We’re already coming to Osaka on the eighteenth,” he explained. “We got invited to a mystery novel convention...”

“ _Really? Hey, cool. Eighteenth... next week. See ya then. Lemme know if ya get anythin’ more on Kid, alright_?”

“Sure. Later, Hattori.”

Shinichi hung up. He then stared down at the copy of Kid’s note, twirling his pen in his fingers irritably. Him _again? Damn thief..._

“Conan-kun! Come on! You’re going to be late for school!” Ran called up the stairs.

“I’m coming, Ran-neechan!” He called quickly. He shoved the piece of paper and his phone into his pocket, grabbing up his schoolbag as he ran down the stairs.

“What took you so long?” she asked with concern. “Couldn’t you find your scarf?”

“No, I found it all right,” Shinichi said, reverting from the adult tones that he used when talking to people In The Know to the high, childish voice that was part of his “Conan-kun” act. “Heiji-niichan called. He said that Kid’s coming to Osaka too. He’s going to steal something on the twenty-first!”

“What? Really?” Ran said in surprise. “What timing... just when we were going to see Shinichi’s parents...” she tipped her head back thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, Shinichi’s Otou-san went up against Kid a couple of times, years ago... I wonder if he’d go for a rematch...”

 _That would be something to see,_ Shinichi agreed privately, but he didn’t say anything—strictly speaking, as far as Ran knew, Edogawa Conan had yet to meet Kudo Yuusaku. He turned back to the note instead of dwelling on that particular thought.

 _What the hell does he mean by “truly fit for a king...?_ ”

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“Osaka, Bocchama?” Jii asked in surprise. “I understand the target is high-priority, but how are you going to find a pretext for going there?”

“I just made one, Jii-san,” Kaito said, carefully lighting a Bunsen. He could just _buy_ smoke-bombs, of course—Jii knew _people_ who could arrange that sort of thing—but he loved playing around with chemicals, and it also gave him the option to add colour and, when he _really_ wanted to mess with Nakamori or Tantei-kun, confetti. “Nakamori-keibu invited me along in an advisory context. I love it when he does that. It gives me an excuse to be at the scene and free reign to mess with the security arrangements. Hiding in plain sight...” He sniffed the spoonful of power that he was measuring out, then shrugged and dumped it all into the bowl. “Do you want to come with?”

“I’m sure someone should,” Jii said, shaking his head. “Not to worry, I’ll stay out of sight of Nakamori-keibu and Aoko-san.”

“You’re a godsend, Jii-san,” Kaito said, pouring the whole mixture— _gently_ —into a little metal capsule. “Yeah, the target’s high-priority, but the main motive is getting away from Tokyo. That prick Hakuba’s back, but I’ve been to Osaka and he hasn’t. Plus, with any luck, him and that Hattori-tantei’ll get in each other’s way long enough for me to leg it. It’s a full moon that night, so I shouldn’t have to try and sneak the ruby back to Tokyo right under Nakamori-keibu’s nose.”

“Bocchama, what about _Them_?” Jii said worriedly. “I looked at news reports concerning the Osaka Museum over the past couple of weeks, and someone has hacked into the computer systems—didn’t touch anything, but... they think the museum itself has been broken into as well. Again, nothing taken...”

“Sounds like someone casing the joint before the real prize gets there,” Kaito confirmed with a wicked grin. “That just makes me even more sure that this could be _it_. I’ll just have to be that little bit more careful, that’s all.”

“You’d better be. When are you leaving?” Jii asked. Kaito yelped as he put a little too much of something in the beaker, causing a short flash and a puff of smoke. He hurriedly blew at the Bunsen burner, brushing ash off of his face.

“Nineteenth,” he said. “Nakamori-keibu just got called and informed that the jewel goes on display on the twentieth, so he wants to be there every moment it’s in Osaka. That gives me two days to case the place—not hard, been there, done that—and set up.”

“Do you have a plan?” Jii asked, pulling out a handkerchief and brushing the rest of the ash off of Kaito’s face.

“Of course,” Kaito said with a grin, pulling out a set of museum plans covered in marks. “Check it out...”

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Eri tapped her pen on the page irritably. She couldn’t figure it out. There were a few holes in the accusation, no alibi for anyone and more or less everybody seemed to have a motive, but, ultimately, there was an opportunity and evidence against her client, and none of the above for anyone else. Still...

 _There must be something that I’m missing,_ she thought, _Some form of alibi... damn, what is it?_

She flipped _very_ quickly past the face of the young detective who was accusing. _Hakuba Saguru... a good detective, I’ve heard, but what a smug, arrogant boy... It would be interesting if I could pit Kudo-kun against him..._

She sighed as the theory returned to her. Fight fire with fire, it always said; if anyone could find the flaws in Hakuba’s deduction, it would be another detective. But Kudo-kun was still missing, and that only left her with...

 _I’m not calling_ him, she thought stubbornly. _I’m not, I’m not, I’m not..._

Her secretary stuck her head around the door. “Sensei, it’s a call from Rose-san,” she said. “They’re starting to draw up official charges, so they’re pushing even harder for a confession. She wants to know if you’ve found anything to defend her friend with.”

Eri sighed in defeat. “No,” she admitted, “but tell her... I’m bringing in a detective of my own to look things over.”

The young woman grinned evilly, but just nodded. “Of course. When shall I tell her to expect Mori-san?”

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“A call from Okaa-san?” Ran said in surprise as she met her father coming out of the Mori Detective Agency. “What’s happened?”

“She wants me to look over one of her cases,” Kogoro grumbled. “She says she’s certain that her client is innocent but can’t find the holes in the other detective’s theory. Calls me all the way out to Haido...”

“She’s gotta be pretty desperate if she’s calling in oji-san,” Conan observed. Ran privately had to agree. It had to be a pretty serious case, which, as Ran could have predicted, clearly interested Conan-kun. So she wasn’t particularly surprised when he turned and followed Kogoro.

“C’mon, Ran-neechan!” he said happily. “Let’s go see Oba-san!”

“All right,” she chuckled. She was secretly quite pleased that her mother had called her father in. _Maybe they’re starting to reconcile,_ she hoped.

To her joy and her father’s ostensible disappointment, Eri was waiting for them outside of the small, three-floored apartment complex in Haido City.

“Finally,” she said, looking at her watch with a snort of annoyance. “If you’re making the fortunes you claim from your cases, maybe you should buy a car. Or is it all going on Mahjongg and horses?”

“Just give me the details,” Kogoro growled. Eri beckoned him inside.

There were six doors and a stairwell inside. Eri led them inside the second door on the left, which opened into the cluttered and messy living room of a small apartment. There was a kitchenette merging into the living room and a door leading into a tiny bedroom which made the living room look positively spotless. There was no bathroom, but one of the doors outside presumably was, the others apartments.

“Whose apartment is this?” Kogoro said, looking around at the mess before sitting down on the sofa by the coffee table. Eri sat on an armchair across from him, picking up one of the folders on the table which were presumably hers.

“The accused,” she said. “One Angela-san, from Scotland. She and seventeen of her friends are here on a rather large group holiday—I believe they won a **Euromillions** jackpot with pooled lottery tickets. They are the only ones living in this building.”

“Don’t tell me all eighteen are suspects,” Kogoro groaned.

“Well, I’m asking you to rule out Angela-san,” Eri replied, flicking through the folder and pulling out a photograph, “and I’m presuming that we can exclude the deceased, George-san. Here’s a photo that they took when in Kyoto.”

Ran sat down next to her father, with Conan wedged in between them, to look at the photo. It showed fifteen smiling people, none of whom looked more than twenty.

“Back left is George-san,” Eri said, indicating a tall, heavyset boy with short dark hair who appeared to be taking a photo of the camera. “Journalist, twenty years old. Found dead early this morning in his apartment, which is directly above this one. It was found by the person in the apartment next to his, Alan-san, who called the police straight away. The knife in his neck made it eminently clear that an ambulance was not needed. There’s Alan-san there, with Angela-san’s cousin, Charles-san. They are twenty-one and twenty respectively, though you wouldn’t think it… Alan-san isn’t going to university until he returns to Scotland, but Charles-san has already graduated in America.” She indicated a skinny young man with dark hair and glasses being given bunny-ears by a similarly skinny young man with a mop of rusty ginger curls and a _lot_ of freckles. “The police believe that George-san was killed by the first blow to the neck, but whoever it was clearly hated him—they kept hacking at his neck even after he was dead until he was nearly beheaded. The estimated time of death is around four AM this morning.”

“Ran-neechan,” Conan suddenly said, tugging the picture out of Kogoro’s hands, “aren’t these the people we saw at the karaoke box last night?”

“Huh?” Ran looked at where Conan was pointing. She gasped in surprise. “You’re right!” she said. “We did see some of these people last night. She was the one I met in the bathroom.” She indicated necklace-girl in the picture, front and centre, arm-in-arm with umbrella-girl and the girl with the frizzy brown hair and glasses.

“Really, Ran?” Eri said in surprise. “What was she like?”

“She seemed very kind,” Ran remembered, “and a little shy. But a nice person. Why?”

“That’s Angela-san,” Eri said. “She’s the one being accused.”

Ran’s jaw dropped. _That kind woman? I mean, when her friend attacked her, she didn’t get angry with her or anything... My English isn’t that good, but I don’t think she said anything really mean..._

“I know what you mean,” Eri said to Ran’s expression. “Her friends hired me to prove her innocent, but at the moment, all I’ve got is gut feeling from when I’ve talked to her. She has no alibi.”

“What does she say she was doing at the time?” Kogoro asked.

“As Ran and Conan said, they’d been at Karaoke last night,” Eri said, shuffling through her notes, “and when the box closed they went to a disco in Shibuya. They didn’t get in until three am, and from then until about eleven, when the body was discovered, all of them were sleeping like the dead, if you’ll pardon the expression.”

“So nobody has an alibi,” Kogoro mused. “What pins it on her?”

“The knife used came from her kitchenette,” Eri said, “and only her prints were found on it. Also...” she walked over to the open window, leaning out of it and pointing up. Kogoro, Ran and Conan followed, all craning to see out of the window. The end of a rope was dangling outside the window, the other end of it disappearing into the apartment above—the victim’s.

“Couldn’t you have gone anywhere else in the complex once you’d gotten down here, though?” Kogoro observed. Eri sighed.

“Yes,” she said, “but look at the flowerbed below.”

“No footprints,” Kogoro instantly noticed. “And the flowers are in perfect shape. Which means that the murderer abseiled down from George-san’s apartment into this window.”

“Oba-san,” Conan suddenly said, “who are the other people in the building?”

“Well,” Eri said, turning back to the photograph and digging out a floorplan, “There’s...”

_Floorplan: ~ means across from_

**_Ground Floor_ **

_Bathroom~Charles_

_Angela~Kirsteen_

_Rose~Hannah_

**_Middle Floor_ **

_Bathroom~Robert_

_George~Shaun x Jonathan_

_Alan~Harry_

**_Top Floor_ **

_Bathroom~Patrick_

_Margaret~Sam_

_Madeline~Bets_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Names of the OCs are not our real names. Names have been changed to protect the weebs.


	4. Inevident Evidence

Shinichi trotted up the stairs, looking for the upstairs apartment where everyone else in the complex had congregated to discuss events and be glared at by the police.

 _Kisaki-san’s right… this murder looks simple, but there’s a lot that doesn’t make sense,_ he thought. _There were seven hours between the murder and the body being discovered,_ so _why did the murderer leave the knife behind—a knife that could instantly identify them? Even if they thought that someone had heard them, from what Kisaki-san says the knife wasn’t exactly wedged into the body. They could easily have yanked it out and run. Besides..._

He glanced into the cordoned-off living room of the deceased’s apartment. The white outline and a _lot_ of blood were in the middle of the living-room floor. _Everyone else was preparing the morning’s hangover. Why wasn’t he asleep? He was expecting someone._

“Conan-kun? What are you doing here?”

Shinichi glanced up in surprise at the unfortunately familiar voice. “Hakuba-niichan?” he said. “What’re you...” he paused and sighed. “You’re the other detective that Kisaki-san mentioned, right? The one who accused Angela-san.”

“Indeed I am,” the blond teen Meitantei said, smirking. “Has she called in Mori-san to back her up? A little desperate.”

“She’d _have_ to be desperate to resort to calling _him_ , in,” Shinichi muttered.

“What was that?” Hakuba asked in confusion.

Shinichi just shook his head. “I wanna go talk to the Scottish people,” he said, deciding to play dumb. “I’ve never met anyone from there before!”

“First door on the right,” Hakuba said, waving his hand dismissively at the staircase. “Remember to be polite and not enter anyone’s rooms unasked. Nothing’s locked here.”

“Huh?” Shinichi asked, but Hakuba had already walked away to the crime scene. Shinichi mentally recalled the floor plan. _First door on the right from the stairs... Patrick-san. Angela-san’s little brother, nineteen, video-game Otaku..._

The room was certainly crowded. Angela was being interrogated in another apartment, and George was at the nearest morgue, but the sixteen remaining members of the group were all crammed onto the sofa or various beanbags scattered around the floor of Patrick’s front room. The apartments being so small, there wasn’t a lot of room for wildly varying room layouts. Angela had had one sofa and two armchairs circling a coffee table, the fourth side facing the TV, while Patrick just had one long sofa facing the TV, which seemed to have about five video-game consoles plugged into it. Nothing was on—everyone had dragged their beanbags into a semicircle around the sofa, all talking very softly. Whether this was due to shock or hangovers Shinichi didn’t know.

“ **I can’t believe it, but the evidence _does_ point to Angela... We just have to accept that.** ”

“ **Hey, the fat lady’s still at the pre-show buffet. Don’t go calling Angela a murderer yet...** ”

“ **Yeah... I mean, any of us could have done it.** ”

“ **Any of us _would_ have done it, you mean. Twat.** ”

“ **Hey, show a little respect for the dead!** ”

“ **Just because he’s dead doesn’t mean he wasn’t a twat.** ”

“Hey, kid,” a tall man with long brown hair—Sam—called, noticing Shinichi at the doorway, “why you here?”

“I’m here with Mori-ojisan,” Shinichi said, deciding that “cute” would be the best way to get information, given how the number of women in the group outnumbered the men. “Eri-obasan asked him to help her prove Angela-neechan innocent.”

“ **Really**?” sniffed a woman with short, pitch-black hair. Shinichi identified her as Kirsteen. She was curled up on the sofa next to a man with curly light-brown hair and glasses, so wrapped around him that he had to be Tom. Next to them, and  trying to sit as far from the entwined couple as possible, was a young man with short dark brown hair, blue eyes and a T-shirt saying **_Foo Fighters_**.  Shinichi figured he was Patrick. He looked startlingly like his sister. “Kisaki-sensei has own detective?” Kirsteen asked—her Japanese was not entirely fluent, like Sam’s.

“No good,” grumbled the heavyset woman with frizzy hair and glasses who had stolen the mic the night before, and as far as Shinichi could tell was known to the world only as “Bets”. “That **English bastard** , he have too many proof.”

“Can I ask you guys something?” Shinichi asked, wondering whether his English was growing rusty or if Haibara was right about Scottish-English practically being a language of its own. When he got the chance, he’d have to ask what a “ **twat** ” was, although he could hazard a guess form the inflection. He also wanted to know what a “ **Foo** ” was, and why it needed fighting.

“We’re not all great at Japanese,” said umbrella-girl, now known to Shinichi as Rose, who seemed pretty great at Japanese herself, “but ask away.”

“ **How about I speak English?** ” asked Shinichi. The adults all stared at him in surprise.

“ **Hey, the midget’s good,** ” said heavyset man with long brown hair and a “ **London 2012** ” jumper. Shinichi figured that he had to be Robert. According to Eri, his sister had won a gold at the London 2012 Olympics, and he was a strong swimmer himself.

“ **My parents live in America,** ” he said, not actually lying, “ **So they taught me.** ”

“ **Why are you asking questions? Are you helping the detective?** ” another woman asked. She had wavy, light-brown hair and glasses, and was sitting on the armrest of the sofa, as if she didn’t want to be on the floor like the others. Hovering next to her, with very long black hair and a worried expression, was Madeline. “ **Nosy brat.** ”

“ **No, I just wanted to tell you guys that someone left their apartment unlocked,** ” Shinichi said. “ **I put my hand on the door and it opened straight away!** ”

“ **That’s no surprise,** ” said one of the two men who had tackled Bets last night. Shinichi spotted them curled around each other on a beanbag in an embrace that was _way_ too close for either of those guys to have a girlfriend. Bowl-cut was Shaun, he remembered from the photo, and Cyclops was Jonathan. Alan was draped across another beanbag in a spectacularly boneless manner, as was Charles, who was absorbed in texting somebody. “ **Since it’s only us in the building, the only doors we’ve gotten into the habit of locking are the front door and toilet stalls. All our flats are always unlocked.** ”

“ **Really?** ” Shinichi said in surprise. “ **Then any of you could just walk in and out of each other’s apartments whenever?** ”

“ **Well, some of us lock our doors when we have private business to attend to,** ” Jonathan said, grinning lecherously at Shaun—Rose mimed puking—“ **But George only did when he was writing, and I don’t think Angela ever did. She’s trusting.** ”

“ **That, and she tends to leave her key in the lock,** ” Patrick muttered. Shinichi frowned.

 _So anyone could have walked into George-san’s apartment that morning,_ he thought. _He didn’t even have to be expecting them. He might just have been getting a drink from the kitchen or something, and someone just walked in..._ he blinked as he realized something else. _And anyone could have walked into Angela-san’s apartment and taken the knife. I mean, when committing a murder, why use a weapon that’s guaranteed to have your prints all over it? The murderer could easily have worn gloves to leave no prints of their own..._

“ **Need a laxative or something?** ” Patrick suddenly asked. Shinichi jerked his head up to look at him in confusion.

“Huh?” he asked. Kirsteen rolled her eyes.

“ **It’s something my dad always says,** ” Patrick said with a shrug. “ **It means... well, you look pretty deep in thought.** ”

“ **Maybe the kid’s really the great detective,** ” Alan joked. Charles laughed. Shinichi sighed.

“ **It would be cool if he was a... what’s the word?** Meitantei?” Hannah said. “ **Y’know, like that kid from that murder mystery manga she always reads...”**

“Angela-neechan **likes murder mysteries?** ” Shinichi asked.

“ **Yeah, she’s always got her nose in a book,** ” Rose said. “ **One of her favourite manga is a murder mystery series, but I think she’s read Sherlock Holmes and stuff as well. She loves Agatha Christie.** ”

 _That’s even odder,_ Shinichi thought. _Mystery fanatics normally know enough to cover their tracks better than_ that _... I mean, leaving the weapon behind and making the escape route so obvious?_

“ **She bought all of those Miss Marple books in Colorado, didn’t she?** ” Alan said. Shinichi began to back out, figuring that he needed to see the murder scene for a minute.

He slipped under the cordon outside George’s room. The only officer inside was Takagi, who was dusting the window.

“Conan-kun?” he said in surprise. “Why are you here?”

“Kisaki-san asked Oji-san to look things over,” Shinichi said, giving the bloody outline a wide berth. “Where’s Hakuba-niichan?”

“He went to go join the interrogation,” Takagi said. “Hey, what are you doing?”

There was a desk with a laptop on it against the wall by the door, around the same place that Angela and Patrick had their TVs. Shinichi clambered up onto the computer chair and tapped the touchpad. The screen flickered to life.

“Have you looked through the computer files yet?” Shinichi asked. “There might be a motive...”

“I was going to do that after I was done checking the windowsill,” Takagi said. “We need a footprint to verify that this was the escape route.”

“Find anything?” Shinichi asked, staring at the bottom of the screen. The guy had a good twenty files already open. “ _This could take a while..._ ”

“Ah, yes...” Takagi picked up the black sheet with the white print of a shoe on it. It wasn’t particularly clear, but Shinichi could just make out, along the arch of the shoe, the word _EKIN._

“These are all notes of newspaper articles,” Takagi noted, looking at the computer screen. “It looks like he has a bit of a portfolio already... I think he was writing a column about Japan while he was here...”

“This isn’t a column,” Shinichi said as another word document opened. It was dated to nearly two years ago. A picture loaded in fits and starts, but when it had, Shinichi noticed with a jolt that Angela was in it, with five others.

 _“The six members of the One World Liberal militia who attacked the central McDonald’s farm..._ ” he read in surprise. It was an article about six people in Colorado who had snuck into a fast-food chain’s central battery farm and slaughterhouse with cameras.

“I heard about that—it nearly brought the corporation down,” Takagi said, reaching over to scroll down the article. “There were some horrible violations of health and safety, immigration laws, employee welfare, so on... even if there hadn’t, one of them hacked into the signals of some pretty major news stations and broadcast what exactly happens to battery animals. The conditions weren’t illegal, as such, but they were pretty horrific... there was a huge public outcry...”

“And Angela-san was one of them?” Shinichi said in surprise. “But this can’t be a motive for murdering George-san...”

“No, he didn’t write the article, and even if it had, it clearly hasn’t hurt her standing with her friends any,” Takagi noted. “They’ve all been running the gamut from ‘she didn’t do it’ to ‘I can’t believe she did it’. Still, there must be a motive on here somewhere... huh?”

“What?” Shinichi looked down at the black keyboard, which Takagi was now staring at in surprise. There was something subtly wrong with it. That was when he realized: the white paint on two of the keys was missing.

Or covered.

“Seven hours between the murder and the body being discovered,” Takagi muttered. “By that time, blood would have dried to nearly black...”

Both the _Ctrl_ and _C_ keys were covered with a black stain, obscuring their numbers.

“Could George-san have saved something?” Shinichi wondered aloud.

“He can’t have left blood on the keyboard,” Takagi said, shaking his head. “The murderer nearly _decapitated_ him. No time for final messages.”

 _Not if he left the message_ after _the murderer left, no..._ Shinichi thought with narrowed eyes. He clicked a new word document open, and then pressed _Ctrl_ and _V_.

“Ah, Conan-kun, what are you... huh?” Takagi stared as a good twenty pages suddenly filled with data. At the bottom were someone’s bank details, with a huge, highlighted figure at the bottom. Takagi’s eyes widened as Conan scrolled through the rest of the notes.

“Embezzlement,” he breathed. “George-san was investigating someone for embezzling money from... huh?”

“Takagi-keiji,” Shinichi said, “that bank number... is it Angela-san’s?”

“I don’t know,” Takagi confessed. “I’d have to check into it. But if it is, this could well be our motive...”

Shinichi stepped out into the hall, watching Takagi hurry across the hall. For some reason or another, possibly its proximity to the murder scene, Shaun and Jonathan’s apartment had become the interrogation room. Shinichi crept over to the door. It was covered in dragon posters, and even the coffee table was in the shape of a crouching dragon. Eri and Sato were talking fairly civilly to Angela as Kogoro and Hakuba argued about something. Angela was looking very pale and sad. Ran set teacups in front of all of the women. They had little dragons dancing around them.

“ **Aye, a cuppa makes everything better, so it does.** ”

Shinichi turned to see Patrick and Sam walking down the hall, glancing at the interrogation with worry and distaste respectively.

“ **I wonder why people do that?** ” Patrick mused. “ **I mean, in World War Two, your house got bombed, and what happened? They pulled you out and gave you tea and biscuits. House been bombed? Have some tea. Child been murdered? Have some tea. The end of the world? Have some tea. Ange doesn’t even drink it. She can’t cook anything more than ramen.** ”

“ **Max-niichan?** ” Shinichi asked. “ **Someone said Angela-neechan was in Colorado. How long was she there?** ”

“ **About a year and a half,** ” Patrick said thoughtfully. “ **She was only gonna be there a year-”**

“ **But she was in jail,** ” Sam interjected with a proud grin.

“ **Hey!** ” Patrick said angrily. “ **She wasn’t in _jail_...** ”

“ **Yeah, The Obama Administration let them go on the quiet,** ” Rose added, having wandered down the stairs. Shinichi faintly heard someone’s mobile ring.

“Do you mind if I answer that?”

Shinichi glanced to the side and saw Angela put down her teacup to pick up her mobile.

“ **Yeah, they decided that, on balance, OW hadn’t really done anything wrong,** ” Patrick said. “ **Besides, they had bigger fish to deep-fry in _that_ case.** ”

“ **So why _was_ she there for so long?** ” Sam asked. Shinichi thought back to part of the article.

“ _Human right offences, health and safety violations, security guards charged with unwarranted..._ ”

“ **Hey,** Patrick-niichan.” Shinichi said, “ **When** Angela-neechan **wasn’t in jail, she was in the hospital, right?** ”

“ **How’d you know?** ” Patrick said in surprise. Rose knelt down and looked Shinichi in the eye. Something about the stare made him shiver.

“ **Wh-what?** ” He asked nervously. Rose stared at him for another long moment before smiling and standing up, shaking her head.

“ **Nothing,** ” she insisted. “ **Anyway, when you find the real killer, can I be in the room? I’m going to beat that cunt to a pulp for framing An-chan...** ”

 _That confirms it,_ Shinichi thought, wandering away as Patrick muttered something to Sam. _The oddness in that movement... The nickname... If I’m right, it’s also the perfect alibi..._

Takagi and Sato suddenly appeared at the doorway, heading for George’s room.

“Hey, Sato-keiji?” Shinichi said as the police passed and the three foreigners headed for their friend. “Can I ask you something?”

“Conan-kun?” she asked, crouching down for a second. “What do you want to know?”

“You found Angela-neechan’s prints on the knife?”

“All ten,” Sato confirmed. Shinichi nodded and smiled dangerously.

“Then can I ask you about...”

“ **I swear, that blond’s determined to prove himself right, no matter what...** ” Angela sighed. “ **I’m starting to worry that if something does come up to save me, he’ll find some way to prove it wrong just so he doesn’t have to be.** ”

“ **Smug English prick,** ” Sam said. “ **What about him?** ” he jerked his thumb at Kogoro, who was currently arguing about whether or not you could even _fit_ through the windows, which didn’t open all the way, with Hakuba, who was currently engaged in proving that you could.

“ **He doesn’t strike me as that bright,** ” Patrick noted perceptively. “ **Is he really the great detective the papers go on about?** ”

“ **Don’t worry, An-chan,** ” Rose said, hugging Angela’s shoulders, “ **I think there’s a real** Meitantei **defending your case.** ” She glanced back at the hall and the little boy, who was suddenly smiling at something that the female police officer had said.

“ **The kid?** ” Patrick said in surprise. “ **Come on.** ”

“ **I’m telling you, there’s something strange about that kid. I can _feel_ it.** ”

“ **Not that witch stuff again,** ” Sam said, rolling his eyes. Rose glared at him.

“ **Wicca, you idiot,** ” she snapped. “ **But you don’t have to take my word for it. Just look at that smile.** ”

“ **I see what you mean,** ” Angela agreed, smiling faintly for the first time since Alan had started yelling at eleven in the morning.

“ **What do you mean?** ” Patrick asked.

“ **You never seen a grin like that before?** ” Rose said. “ **You don’t know what it means?** ”

“ **It means,** ” Angela said, without waiting for an answer, “ **That someone—probably the murderer—is about to get very, very screwed.** ”


	5. Only One Truth

Shinichi slipped through the unlocked door of the murderer’s apartment. By the window was a red comfy chair. Behind it was a small groove in the carpet. Shinichi carefully examined the fabric of the chair, and grinned triumphantly when he saw what he was looking for: an almost invisible strand of brown caught in the frayed seams of the chair. _Bingo._

He slipped out of the room again, without being noticed by those gathered just a few doors away. _If I’m right, that person is also the embezzler,_ he thought, _and that’s why they killed George-san. I don’t know their motive against Angela-san, but there’s evidence enough..._

His thoughts were cut off as a fist suddenly slammed into his head.

“Brat! Where have you been?!” Kogoro yelled.

_Owwww..._

“Ah, Oji-san!” he said, trying to sound bright. “I think I found something cool. Wanna see?” He grabbed Kogoro’s hand and tugged him into the murderer’s room.

“Let go, brat!” Kogoro yelled. “Stop meddling—uwahhh...”

Shinichi stepped aside as Kogoro tottered over and collapsed, fast asleep, into the comfy chair, as he had planned.  He clicked the lid of the tranquilizer watch closed, and pulled the little speaker out of his pocket, attaching it to the top of Kogoro’s tie, where it was nearly invisible and made Shinichi’s altered voice come out from the region of his mouth. Rearranging Kogoro into a suitably serious—and, more importantly, downward-facing—pose was the final touch. Shinichi pulled his bowtie out and clicked it to the now well-worn setting fifty-nine. _Time for the show..._

“Okay, oji-san!” he cried brightly as he ran out of the door. He first shot downstairs to the interrogation room to inform the police, Hakuba and Eri that Kogoro had found an alibi, before running upstairs to inform the massed foreigners of the same. Everyone got into the room at the same time. Shinichi noticed that the murderer looked a little pale that the deduction show was taking place in their room. _Gotcha. You don’t want attention drawn to yourself, but if you were innocent, you’d be making a fuss about this, wouldn’t you?_

“Mori-san,” Hakuba sad pleasantly, “Forgive me, but all of the evidence points to Angela-san. So why are we here?”

“You drew that conclusion before you _had_ all of the evidence, Hakuba-kun,” Shinichi said in Kogoro’s voice. “You missed a few small points. The very literal open-door policy here, for example. Anyone could have walked into Angela-san’s room and taken that knife, just as anyone could have walked into George-san’s room and killed him at four AM today.”

“That just suggests that it could have been anyone, not that it wasn’t her,” Hakuba said. “Although I’ll admit that, between his records of dating and bullying, and some inherent dislike, there’s few without a motive. Besides, the murderer _didn’t_ walk in. They climbed out of the window—”

“And why would they do that?” Shinichi said. “Think about it. What’s the point to climb the windows when you can wander the halls freely? Because walking out of the door doesn’t leave an escape route that points directly to a subject, that’s why. At four in the morning, no-one was awake, so no-one would have seen the murderer in the halls, and yet they chose to climb out of the window? Leaving behind both a weapon and an escape route that point straight to them?”

“It’s not the brightest thing to do, but you can’t assert that _nobody_ would be dim enough to try it.”

“ _Excuse_ me?” Angela said in incredulous and impeccable Japanese. Rose let out a feral little snarl and stepped towards Hakuba. The rest of them started muttering, the mysterious phrase “ **English twat** ” recurring frequently.

“Arrogance is your downfall, Hakuba-kun. You are a good detective, but you have an unfortunate tendency to jump to a conclusion and then stick to it, no matter what the evidence to the contrary,” Shinichi said. “Assuming that what you say is true, then tell me this: if Angela-san was so incautious as to leave all of these obvious clues, why would she cover up her tracks by borrowing someone else’s shoes?”

“What?” Hakuba asked, confused. Takagi stepped forward with the shoe-print lifted from Adams’ windowsill.

“If you look inside Angela-san’s door, Hakuba-kun,” Shinichi said, “You will find a pair of slippers and half a dozen pairs of Converse All-stars, a brand of shoe _not_ made by Nike.”

“Ah, he’s right, look!” Sato said, indicating the backwards tick logo on the print.

“Ah, you were wearing Converses at Karaoke, too!” Ran said. “I remember now...”

“She doesn’t wear anything else,” Rose interjected. “ **Hippy** hates wearing leather...”

“So these shoes cannot always have been hers,” Kogoro said, “yet, if you examine the print closely, you can see that the ridge pattern on the bottom of the shoe is rounded and worn. If Angela-san has not been wearing them, someone else has. And I believe that if you examine all of the shoes in this building, you will find a match among them.”

“You saying one of us is murderer?!” Madeline shrieked. A couple of the others craned over to look at the print.

“ **Lifted a shoe-print off the window? Cool,** ” Alan said.

“ **You can do that?** ” Margaret asked in surprise. “ **I thought it was just fingerprints.** ”

“So your theory thus far suggests that someone else climbed in and out of that window, sneaking past while Angela-san was asleep, and wearing gloves to prevent their own fingerprints appearing on the knife,” Hakuba summarized. “If true, that means that Angela-san was just an unlucky patsy, but that doesn’t give us a murderer.”

“The murderer did more than just wear gloves,” Shinichi pointed out. “There are a couple of odd little inconsistencies regarding the fingerprints. Firstly, their presence at all. Angela-san,” he said, “Your brother commented earlier that you are a dismal cook. Do you cook often?”

“Well, we mostly eat out together,” she said with a shrug. “When we don’t, Pat or someone else who _can_ cook sometimes cooks for everyone. I can’t actually say that I’ve used that much of my kitchen beyond the fridge. We’ve only been here a couple of months.”

“Have you ever used that knife?” Shinichi asked.

“I don’t think so, actually,” she said thoughtfully. “I mean, the few times I’ve cooked for myself, I mostly just heat up some ramen or something...”

“I think it’s obvious she’s never touched the knife,” Jonathan said, suddenly grinning with the realization that Shinichi—or Kogoro, anyway—was producing his friend an alibi.

“How do you prove that?” Hakuba said dryly. Robert, cottoning on, pulled her hand up to show to the detective.

“No bandages,” he laughed. “She real clumsy. She handle a knife like that, she lose a finger.”

“ **He has a point,** ” Charles laughed. “ **I mean, _how_ many times have you fallen down the stairs...?**”

“ **You nearly cut your finger off with a _staple_ once,** ” Patrick said, getting a dig in while it was allowed in the manner of little brothers everywhere. “ **There’s no _way_ she could have handled a knife without hurting herself.** ”

“ **Thank you for your compliments to my co-ordination,** ” Angela said sarcastically.

“That’s still no proof, however,” Hakuba said, but Shinichi chuckled.

“Takagi-keiji,” he said, “you said you lifted all _ten_ prints from the knife?”

“Um, yes,” Takagi confirmed. Sato suddenly gasped, snapping her fingers.

“Ah!” She said. “Conan-kun asked me—”

“Yes, I asked him to,” Shinichi said. “Those ten prints are conclusive evidence that the murderer was settling two grudges tonight; one against George-san and one against Angela-san.”

Eri suddenly reached out and grabbed Angela’s other hand, her left one. “You keep fiddling with your left hand,” she said. “And when you picked up your mobile, you put down the teacup so you could pick it up with your right hand, even though your left hand was free.”

“Yes, the motion struck me as odd, too,” Shinichi said. “And when Conan-kun told me about the article about the activities of the Coloradan Liberal Militia “ **One World** ”, I realized why. The article mentioned that one of the guards was arrested for unwarranted brutality—firing on the unarmed militia members as they ran. One of them tried to open a door so they could escape and was shot in the hand. They lost two fingers.”

“ ** _Seriously_**?” Bets said in surprise, staring at Angela’s hand. **“Jesus, I knew you were in the hospital, but I had no idea-!”**

“ **Prosthetics,** ” Robert said. “How you say... Prosthetics?”

“Correct,” Shinichi said. “Reattached false fingers. The medical science behind it these days is so good that you can move them like real fingers. They’re not perfect, though, and I was certain that you had prosthetics when Conan-kun told me of the nickname he heard George-san calling you at the Karaoke box.”

“ **Bob Dole,** ” Alan said.

“What it _mean_?” Madeline asked, sounding frustrated.

“He was a **Republican** candidate who ran against **Clinton** in the nineties,” Angela said. “He was injured in **Nam** , like pretty much every American who was alive at the time. His hand was injured. He kept it, but it was disfigured and disabled.” As her various friends mentally translated the Japanese at various speeds, realization began to dawn on some of them. “They work pretty well, actually, but I’m still not too comfortable with them, and I keep forgetting that they’re there ‘cause they don’t feel or anything. I habitually use my right hand only.”

“Yes,” Shinichi said, “George-san was a friend of the reporter who did that article. The reporter gave him a few details which were not for the release of the general public, and one of them was the loss of your fingers. The article only mentioned ‘unwarranted brutality’. This is conclusive proof that someone set out to frame you.”

“And how, may I ask?” Hakuba said, getting visibly irritated as his deduction was methodically demolished. It was Sato who answered.

“Ten prints,” she said. “Prosthetics are good, but in the end, they’re plastic. They don’t _have_ fingerprints. Angela-san _can’t_ have left those prints. Someone faked them. They must have lifted her prints off of something _before_ she left. They were planning this for a long time.”

“That’s possible, but given what I believe to be the motive, unlikely,” Shinichi said. “Angela-san, I understand you lived and worked in Colorado for a year and a half. Are you an American citizen?”

“Born in Colorado,” Angela confirmed. “And yes, as a citizen they do have my prints on file. The American government’s been a lot better about civil rights under Obama, but it wouldn’t be surprising if there _was_ someone who’d sell you such details if you coughed up enough green.”

“They said you were a mystery fan,” Shinichi said, “and yes, that’s most likely what happened. The motive against you is, in fact, the ‘ **One World** ’ attack against battery farms. In the aftermath, all McDonald’s restaurants worldwide closed temporarily and in some cases permanently. I believe that the murderer lost their job as a result of these purges, which robbed her not only of her income but also broke up the embezzlement scheme she had been running to siphon off what accumulated to millions.”

“Wait,” Harry said. “Wait. You not say... one of us was manager at McDonald’s. You saying...”

The group turned as one to the white-faced murderer.

“Yes,” Shinichi confirmed. “Margaret-san... _It was you **!**_ ”

“ ** _What?!_** ”

Angela gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. Robert, Alan and Harry grabbed Rose by the arms, pulling her back as she screamed a long list of words that even Shinichi wasn’t good enough at English to recognize, but were easy enough to guess. Bets was similarly fighting off Shaun, Jonathan and Charles. Madeline was crying and shaking her head, Hannah placing an arm around her shoulders, while Tom muttered about how she’d known it all along. Patrick had gone purple with anger as he yelled at Heather, Kirsteen fisting her hands tightly and baring her unsettlingly pointed teeth as she visibly restrained herself from jumping on her. Sam was doing repeated double-takes between Kogoro and Margaret. Takagi was rapidly putting the evidence bags out of harm’s way, Sato stepping in between Margaret and the others, prepared to deal out some fast, painful anger management. Margaret started backing away, muttering about lies and slander and calling a lawyer. Eri stepped into the doorway, effectively preventing her from escaping.

“Right here,” she said dangerously.

“Well, that’s interesting,” Hakuba mused. Ran stared at him incredulously. “So you have a motive. Do you have hard evidence? Damning as her reaction to your accusation was, you can’t prove anything without physical proof.”

“Allow me to explain how she did it first,” Shinichi said. “George-san was blackmailing her over the embezzlement. She agreed to meet him an hour after they returned, when everyone else would surely be sound asleep. Before she did so, she tied the knife—which she had stolen in advance and planted prints onto—to the length of rope, and then tied it to this chair, causing it to dangle just outside of George-san’s window. When she entered, he turned on his computer and loaded up the document with the evidence. While he was doing that, however, she opened the window, untied the knife, and slit his throat with it. He didn’t notice the knife before because it was dark outside and, anyway, I doubt he even looked at the window on the way from his room to his computer. She then went to tie the now elongated dangling end of the rope to the chair, which as the police has noted is leaning against the window with the rope tied to it. George-san, however, was not dead. He copied the document, which he knew Margaret-san would delete. As his laptop was plugged into the wall, it would not run out of power—thus, as long as it stayed plugged in, the files would appear days later, whenever someone pressed _Ctrl_ and _V_. Margaret-san, however, feared that he had sent someone an email—he couldn’t cry out, because of the destruction to his throat, and she couldn’t tell for sure what he had done, because, as Conan-kun told me, he had dozens of windows open. He had probably expired as soon as he copied the document, but, scared, she chopped hastily until he was decapitated. She then deleted the file and, fearing that someone would be coming down the hall at any second, climbed up the rope to her room, where she untied this end and let it drop to just outside of Angela-san’s room. If anyone had entered the room at that point, they would have seen the rope dangling outside of Angela-san’s room, and not quite still—implying that she had only just climbed down. Margaret-san then hid the bloody clothes and gloves among the rubbish which would have been taken away at about seven AM today—four hours before the body was discovered.”

“A strong theory, Mori-san, and does explain the footprint,” Hakuba said, “but without hard evidence, we can’t charge anyone—although I will admit that Angela-san is certainly cleared. My apologies,” he said, with a courteous bow to Angela, who had her arms around Rose’s shoulders as she tried to calm her furious friend.

“ **’S... All right,** ” she murmured, shock causing her to revert to English.

“There is hard evidence,” Shinichi said. Then, pocketing the tie, he ran around to the side of the chair and pointed out the strand of brown hemp.

“Is that it, Oji-san?” he cried. “Look, it’s a little piece of brown thread! Isn’t this chair red?”

Hakuba pulled on a pair of gloves as he strode over to the chair and extracted the piece of string. It was wrapped around the headrest, snagged on a loose seam. He pulled it taut, examining it closely.

“Keiji-san,” he said, “can we get forensics to compare this with the rope dangling from George-san’s window?”

“ **Save yourself the trouble,** ” Margaret spat out between sobs. “ **I’m getting arrested, aren’t I? Guess that bastard got what he wanted...** ”

“ **So it’s all true,** Margaret-san **,** ” Hakuba said. He sounded a little disappointed.

“ **Embezzlement? Maggie, why did you _bother_?** ” Madeline cried. “ **You didn’t need that money! If you hadn’t done that, he wouldn’t have gone after you** — **”**

“ **I needed that money!** ” Margaret yelled angrily. “ **Otherwise, they wouldn’t like me...** ”

“ ** _They_? Who’s _they?_** ” Rose snarled. “ **You’re hanging out with them again, aren’t you? That bitch Jordan and her friends. God, why do you _care_ about them?** ”

“ **They’re my friends!** ” Margaret shot back angrily. “ **They’ve _always_ been nice to me. So I took the money to be nice to them. But then _he_ started demanding most of it from me, and then _she_** — **”** she jerked her head at Angela, who was crying quietly—“ **Took my job from me! They were going to leave me...** ”

“ **Those cows only wanted you for your money!** ” Alan yelled. “ **Dammit, _we_ were kind to you! We were your friends! Damn you! You’ve always been like this!** ”

“ **So once again, I’m sure, we’ve been secretly plotting against you?** ” Bets growled. “ **Yeah, secretly, we all hate you, _that’s_ why we act so friendly. Get a fucking grip. Angie wasn’t _trying_ to lose you your job any more than those bitches wanted to be friends with _you_. Grow up, get over yourself, and learn to know when you’ve got it good.** ”

“ **You shouldn’t be mad at _me_!** ” Margaret screamed. “ **This isn’t my fault! You’re all making _me_ the bad guy again!** ”

Shinichi stepped out from behind the chair, putting his bowtie away, and regarded her coldly. “ **You made yourself the bad guy when you tried to destroy the lives of two of your friends,** neechan **,** ” he said. Everyone stared at him for a moment. Then Sato nodded at Takagi.

“Cuff her,” she said. Takagi nodded and led Margaret away, reading her rights to her in English. Margaret threw a last pleading look back at her ex-friends, but the ones that weren’t crying just glared at her or looked away. Rose and Bets made obscene gestures. Madeline turned away.

“Hmm?” muttered Kogoro, yawning. “What just happened?”

The Scots all stared at him incredulously.


	6. Perceptions

“It’s going to take us a while to get over the shock, of course,” Angela was saying to Eri, “but... well, thank you. Thank you for everything.”

“I’m glad your name was cleared.” Eri glared back at Kogoro, who was going over case details with the unfortunately only marginally less smug Hakuba. “I guess he’s good for _something_.”

“Hey, **kiddo**.”

Shinichi glanced up to realize that Rose had appeared next to him, staring at him calculatingly. Then she smiled.

“I’d just like to thank the Meitantei who cleared my friend’s name,” she said lightly.

Shinichi gulped. “Um, Oji-san’s over there...” he said with a nervous laugh, waving his hand at Kogoro. Rose shook her head as she knelt down to his eye level.

“And?” she said. Shinichi stepped back slightly. She winked. “Thank you. Watch out for stormclouds and shadows, Meitantei.” She stood up and walked away to chat to Angela.

Shinichi shuddered nervously. _What the hell?_

“ ** _That witch thing?_** ”

“ ** _Wicca, you moron._** _”_

 _Wicca... western white magic, right_? he laughed nervously again. _No way._

“So, why were you here, Hakuba-kun?” Ran asked. “I thought you lived in England most of the time.”

“I live near here now,” Hakuba said with a shrug. “I elected to move back in order to pursue a case which is very important to me.”

“Huh? A case?” Ran said in surprise. Shinichi wandered up beside her and narrowed his eyes. “What case?”

“What else?” Hakuba said, glancing down at Conan as he smiled. “The Kaitou Kid, of course.”

“Ran,” Eri called, “I need to ask you something...” she glared at Kogoro, who glared back, before both looked away with a snort. “Before I head back to the office.”

“So how did you end up in this case, onii-chan?” Shinichi asked as Ran hurried away. “Were you going somewhere in Haido?”

“Actually, my house is here,” Hakuba said, “but as a matter of fact I was on my way to a certain address when I heard the screaming.”

“Whose, the Kaitou Kid’s?” Shinichi said sarcastically, only to be surprised when Hakuba nodded.

“I know who he is,” he said quietly, “and although the evidence is almost purely circumstantial—no hard proof—It’s enough to know for a fact that I’m on the right track, unlike today. I was intending to go to his house to find some decisive proof.”

“Really...” Shinichi said with a sigh. “How were you going to get in?”

“Well, he is in my class,” Hakuba said, “so I suppose there’s always the old ‘what’s the homework’ nugget.” He clapped Shinichi on the shoulder and strolled away, leaving Shinichi spluttering.

 _I think I could use some sleep, because I’m clearly hearing things,_ he thought as he glanced up at the dark sky. They’d been there longer than he’d thought. Luckily, Ran had clearly finished her conversation with her mother, so she’d presumably be dragging him and the old man home soon.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Ran insisted to her mother before taking Shinichi’s hand. “Ready to go home, Conan-kun?”

“Yeah,” Shinichi said with an exaggerated yawn. At nine o’ clock, he wasn’t actually tired, but he knew an eight-year-old would be. Ran took the act with a smile, before looking over her shoulder to yell at her father.

“Otou-san!” she called. “Time to go! See you soon, Okaa-san!”

“Bye-bye, Kisaki-san!” Shinichi called. Eri waved and smiled, but as he turned his head away, he caught her staring at him with a calculating look. He fought back a wince.

 _What_ is _it with women today?_ he wondered feverently. _Do I have a flashing sign above my head or something?_

However, they soon left Eri’s sight, and Shinichi settled once more into the friendly, childish chatter of Conan.

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“No _way_!” Sonoko said incredulously. “Are you _serious_? Those weird foreigners from the Karaoke box? Geez, that’s freaky...”

“Not as freaky as Okaa-san actually asking Otou-san to help out...” Ran said with a grin.

Sonoko laughed. “Seriously, though, I’m starting to think it’s not just your Otou-san,” Sonoko commented thoughtfully. “I mean, anywhere _any_ of you go, someone gets _murdered_! I swear, being a Shinigami must be in the Mori blood or something...”

“Don’t _joke_ about that!” Ran groaned. “It’s horrible. You would not _believe_ how many things remind me of death by now. I mean, I can’t even play arcade games any more, or eat cake when it rains.”

“Just don’t go bringing death to Kid-sama when you’re in Osaka, all right?” Sonoko reprimanded. “Why are you even going, for that matter? I thought you weren’t interested in Kid.”

“Not really,” Ran said, “but Conan-kun is, and Otou-san got asked to come by Hattori-san and Nakamori-keibu, so I’d better go to make sure they don’t starve to death... plus, I might get to say hi to Yuusaku-ojisan and Yukiko-obasan at the mystery novel convention...”

“Ah, it all comes clear now,” Sonoko said with a smirk. “Hoping to learn the whereabouts of your wandering husband?”

“Sonoko!” Ran yelled, knowing she was blushing.  “For the millionth time, we’re _not_ —”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Sonoko said, waving her hand dismissively. “You guys aren’t married.”

“Right.”

“ _Yet_.”

“ _Sonoko_!”

Ran stomped ahead as Sonoko doubled up laughing, feeling her cheeks heat up again. She wasn’t sure if she was angry about the teasing or embarrassed that Sonoko was right. The first thing she’d thought of, when Yukiko had written to her saying that they were coming to Japan for a while and that she was hoping to see them, was that, if Shinichi wasn’t with them, they might at least know where he was. That was why she had suggested going to the convention in Osaka even before Heiji had called with the news of Kid.

 _I can’t help it, though,_ she sighed. _I’m worried..._ she’d always been worried about Shinichi, but the worry had been that little bit more acute for the past few months, ever since the day that she, Sonoko and a few other friends had gone to Tropical land for a day together. Ran hated to admit it, even to herself, but she hadn’t gone to spend time with her friends. She’d gone because, by some quirky coincidence, they were going on the very day that Shinichi had disappeared, two years ago.

 _And you thought that meant something, didn’t you?_ she reprimanded herself. _What did you think, he’d turn up on the Mystery Coaster? Come running out of that alleyway? Why do you even know the exact date that he vanished?_

“Ran! Hold up! Hey, I’m sorry,” Sonoko said, panting as she caught up to Ran. “All right, no more jokes. Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Ran sighed.

“No, it’s not,” Sonoko said. “Because you _are_ worried about him, aren’t you?” Ran couldn’t contain a tiny wince. Sonoko could be a little airheaded, but she wasn’t dim. “Sorry. You want to talk about it?”

“N-no, It’s all right,” Ran insisted. “I’m fine. Really.”

“He should call more often,” Sonoko insisted. “I mean, Makoto-san does that too. Vanishes for _weeks_ , doesn’t even tell me when his tournaments are, and then when he finally _does_ call...” Naturally or deliberately, Sonoko diverted the conversation onto her own vanishing boyfriend, and for that, Ran was grateful. She wasn’t actually sure whether she wanted to talk about it or not. She wondered whether her worries would sound a little paranoid to anyone who didn’t know Shinichi as well as she did. It was just that, once she’d realized that Shinichi had been away on this case for two years, her wondering about his return turned from _when_ to _if_. The less he called and the more reticent he was about the details, the worse it got.

 _Two years_ , she thought. _He’s never taken anywhere_ near _this long on a case before. What is it that he won’t even tell_ me _about it? That’s keeping him away for so long? That’s so much more important to him than anything else, including..._ She always tried to bite off the thought there. Inevitably, however, it led to the worry that Shinichi was in danger—that the case, whatever it was, was threatening his life. If that was why he had disappeared, why it was taking him so long...

 _You’re not Holmes, Shinichi,_ she thought sadly. _Please don’t get yourself into anything over your head..._

“Huh?” she said, jerking out of her thoughts as her cellphone rang once.

“Better turn the ringer off, Ran,” Sonoko warned as they went through the school gates. “Is it a text?”

“Yeah,” Ran said, slipping the phone open.

_How’re you doing? Sorry I haven’t called in a while. I might later, once you’re out of school. Figured I should contact you since I haven’t in a while and you’re likely to be worrying yourself to death, even though you don’t need to. Baka._

_That, and I’ve sorta missed you lately. Later._

_Sorta missed you_? Ran thought in surprise as she read over the text, turning away as she sat down at her desk in order to hide it from Sonoko. _Has he missed me... like I’ve missed him...?_

She quickly turned off and hid her phone as the teacher walked into the room, standing up to bow with the others. She caught Sonoko’s eye as she did so.

“You’re showing me that text later,” Sonoko hissed. Ran groaned quietly.

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“Are you feeling all right, Conan-kun?” Ayumi said worriedly. “You’ve been real quiet.”

“Ah! No, I’m fine, really,” Shinichi insisted. “It’s just... I, uh, think I’m getting a cold, that’s all.” Minor illnesses were generally a sufficient cop-out.

“If you’re sick, maybe you should’ve stayed home,” Mitsuhiko said a little testily. He and Genta were a little grumpy this morning, as they always were when Ayumi was fussing over Conan—which, due to his black mood, she had been doing a _lot_. Shinichi tried to brighten up a little, pulling up his “chibi” act in full force, but it only took reaching the locker-room for his depression to return. It was the label on his locker that did it.

_Edogawa Conan_

_3-B_

Third grade. He was in _third damn grade_. He should be in _twelfth_. He should be preparing for finals, then canvassing jobs and colleges with everyone else his actual age. Instead, he was surrounded by kids who were getting excited about entering the fourth grade. _Been there, done that, didn’t want the t-shirt_ , he wanted to scream. Normally, he could handle it—the acting, the re-education, being held back—but every so often, something happened to remind him that he wasn’t where he should or wanted to be. Starting second and third grade had been bad enough, but birthdays had _really_ done it. He hadn’t paid much attention to the passing of his seventeenth—too busy helping Ran survive being an amateur bomb-disposal team, only thinking that it was ironic that he’d actually gotten _younger_ that year—but the passing of his eighteenth had been almost painful. It was a vivid reminder of the havoc that that damn drug had wreaked on him.

He should be graduating and turning nineteen this year, not _nine_.

At times like these, his frustration and anger generally manifested itself as a deep depression. He was mostly able to keep it limited to this until it passed, but if he ended up alone, he couldn’t stop lashing out. On what should have been his eighteenth birthday, he’d looked into the mirror in the morning and smashed it. Luckily, Ran had bought his story that he’d slipped on his stool—he had to use a damn _stool_ to reach the sink—and was only concerned that he’d cut himself, but it had been all he could do not to just tell her everything. For a long moment, staring at his shattered reflection and a bleeding cut on his fist, he’d wanted more than anything to stop lying to her—to tell her the truth, all of it, beg her forgiveness, beg her not to leave him alone. More than anything, he’d wanted her to stay with him, like that would somehow make it all better. Maybe, just for a moment, it would have.

But then something would happen to remind him why he couldn’t. Like the nightmare.

Maybe it had been the case, maybe that freaky Wiccan girl, he didn’t know what, but when he fell asleep, it had happened.

_He was Kudo Shinichi again, running down that alleyway. What did he think he was looking for? He didn’t know, but he knew he had to go. And there, at the end of it, was that little back clearing near a still and silent Ferris wheel. But Vodka and the president were nowhere to be seen. There was only a dark shape lying on the ground in a pool of blood._

_He ran frantically to it, thinking he needed to call an ambulance. He reached for his mobile as he reached the body. His hand froze when he saw the face, saw the blank, lifeless eyes, eyes he knew._

_Ran. She was dead. Because of_ him _._

_He fell to his knees, reaching to her with shaking hands, but he knew she wouldn’t wake. Not anymore. All thanks to him._

_He looked up, into Gin’s cold eyes._

_“Can you solve this case, Meitantei?” he said quietly. His lips curled into a sneer as he raised his gun and pulled the trigger._

In a _bang_ , Shinichi had sat bolt upright, gasping for air, gulping back screams. Kogoro had just snored and turned over in his sleep. Shinichi had fought to slow his breath, wiping sweat from his forehead with shaking hands. He’d stared at them, tiny, damp hands. Then, slowly, he lay on his side, curling into a tight, shuddering little ball under the covers. He hadn’t slept again all night.

Even now, hours later, he still saw it whenever he closed his eyes, still lurking at the forefront of his mind: Ran, cold, lifeless, _dead_. No matter how much he wanted to tell Ran the truth, stop her worrying and fear, he couldn’t. The risk was too much. No matter how much he stood to gain, the stakes were just too, too high. No matter what the odds, he would never put Ran’s life on the table. _Never_.

He reached the classroom alone, ahead of the others. Only Haibara was there ahead of him, digging through her bag for her pencil case.

“Depression again?” she asked calmly as he sat down at his desk—his tiny _kiddy_ desk—and put his head down on it. “I hope you didn’t break anything again.”

“Doesn’t it ever get to you?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled by the desk. “Being _stuck_ like this?”

“Not really,” she said. “Perhaps it’s because I’ve got nothing to go back to. You do.”

“At the rate things are going, I’m going to grow back into my old age before we find the antidote. By that point, I _won’t_ have anything to go back to.”

“You think she’ll have moved on in the next eight or nine years?” Haibara asked mildly, even though it wasn’t really a question. There was no need for Shinichi to ask who _she_ was.

“In that scenario, I _hope_ she does,” he said, sighing and clicking his phone open as it buzzed. “I could never do that to her. I wouldn’t make her wait that long. Not for me.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, just remember that that is not the intended scenario,” Haibara said. “After all, I invented the drug once, so I’m fairly certain I can do it again. After that, the antidote will be simplicity itself.”

Conan nodded, looking at his phone. There were two texts, both from Patrick-san—he’d given Conan his number, promising to explain some of the more colourful scotch-English terms that Conan had been asking about. The first text was a very long of words that Conan was “too wee to know”. The second was phrases and words that he presumably wasn’t. He stared for a long moment at the first one.

**_The fat lady’s still at the pre-show buffet. Derivative of “It’s not over until the fat lady sings.”_ **

He couldn’t help grinning at the explanation and translation, before clicking off of the text and selecting _compose_. It wasn’t over yet. He couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t. He’d keep the frustration and despair and turn it into anger. And the second he got his old body back, he’d bring it all to bear on the head of that **twat** Gin.


	7. The Pen And The Sword

“Hiromi-chan!”

Watanabe Hiromi paused as a man came running out of the Osaka station. Her face broke into a grin as she recognised fellow novelist Higurashi Kenji.

“Ken-kun!” she greeted him, adjusting her short black hair. “So you were invited as well?”

“But of course,” he said proudly, adjusting his glasses. “All of the top names were.”

“I see you’re as humble as ever.”

“No need to be when you’re good,” he said with a cheeky grin. “You should know.”

“Flashing the silver tongue again, Higurashi?” came another voice from behind them.

“Takahashi, how’d you sneak in?” Kenji said, greeting another novelist, Takahashi Kazuma. “I didn’t think you had anything on the go at the moment.”

“Hoping to change that soon,” Kazuma said. “Watanabe-san, nice to see you again.”

“You too, Kazuma-kun,” she said with a smile. “Is this the place?” she added, glancing up at the large bookstore that they’d run into Kazuma in front of.

“I believe so,” Kazuma said. “Kuruma-san’s got hotel rooms booked for everyone for the next couple of days, so we just need to meet him here to get keys and a convention schedule and such.”

“Shigeru-kun’s done all right for himself,” Hiromi said approvingly as they stepped into the bustling bookstore.

“Yeah,” Kenji agreed, “it’s just a shame his own work never cut it.”

“Well, it isn’t as if it was any good,” another voice said from behind them. “You can’t just publish anyone who knows how to spell. A novel is a work of art.”

“Kuragi-san,” Kazuma sighed as he turned to face the woman who was watching them piercingly from the doorway. He wondered if they’d passed her or if she’d just gotten there.

“But of course _your_ talents made the grade, Chihiro-san,” Hiromi said scathingly, “the belle of the mystery scene. No doubt the first name on the list.”

“What a dubious pleasure it is to see you again,                 Kuragi-san,” Kenji said. “I suppose your omnipotence would know _where_ our generous Kuruma-san is?”

“I’m surprised that a writer is so incapable of _reading_ , particularly his invite,” Chihiro said as she walked past the three of them. “Kuruma Shigeru has closed off the cafe upstairs to meet the various writers. Of course, that is assuming that you _got_ an invite. Or are you merely gatecrashing in order to pretend that you’re a _real_ novelist?”

“What? You—” Kenji began, but he was cut off by Hiromi.

“Ken-kun is a real novelist,” she stated, “more so than _you_ , I daresay.” To the men’s surprise, Chihiro paled a little before turning and flouncing off.

“What was _that_ about?” Kenji asked, a little confused.

“Everyone has their skeletons in their closet,” Hiromi said cattily. “I daresay hers are rattling up a fuss.”

She stalked off towards the cafe. Kenji and Kazuma exchanged “ _women, huh?_ ” looks before following.

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“You four are the first ones here,” Shigeru Kuruma said as he greeted the small group of novelists. “Here’s the schedule. Everyone’s going to be doing readings from their newest books at various times tomorrow, and aside from that it’s mostly book signings and discussions. We’re holding it mainly in the crime and mystery sections, naturally. I think I have most of your books in stock for the readings—”

“Thank you for the thoughtfulness, Kuruma-san,” Chihiro said, “but I brought my own copy.” She pulled out a copy of her latest book, _Crimson Moon_ , and kissed it lightly, blowing the kiss at Shigeru. He paled a little, but turned to the other writers with a smile.

“We’re holding some early readings this afternoon,” he said, “so if anyone has copies of their books, if you’d like to bring them down to the mystery and crime section... it’s already been blocked off...”

“How many others do you think are coming?” Hiromi asked as they descended the stairs to the store. She reflected that being a novelist was just the right sort of fame—money and prestige, but your fans didn’t really know your face, so you could go out in public unmolested, unlike movie stars.

“Only three or four others, to be honest,” Shigeru admitted, edging past a group of chattering teenagers in the manga section. “I invited more, but many were unable to make it.”

“That’s too bad,” Kenji commented. “Ah, is this it?”

“This is quite large,” Kazuma said appreciatively as he counted shelves. “Larger than most of the other sections.”

“Well, remember that I did want to be a mystery novelist myself, once upon a time,” Shigeru said, leading them to a table next to the shelves where their books were displayed.

“Too bad your dreams surpassed your skill,” Chihiro sneered, settling her book in pride of place on the desk.

“Indeed,” Shigeru said quietly. “Indeed. Now, would you all like a little lunch?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Kazuma said as his stomach rumbled. “Is that cafe serving?”

“Actually, I’d like to go drop off my bag in the hotel first,” Hiromi said, checking her watch. “I’ll meet you here later.”

“All right. You know where it is?” Shigeru asked. She nodded and waved as she left.

“Well, let’s go, then,” Kenji said, setting his own book on the desk.

“Kuruma-han?” One of the girls at the desk called. “We’ve got a phone call for you...”

“I need to take this,” Shigeru said. “If you’ll excuse me...”

“All right, we’ll see you up there,” Kenji called, climbing the stairs after Kazuma and Chihiro.

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Shigeru paused at the top of the stairs as he heard raised voices.

“ _This_ filth?! As if I would sully my company by publishing _this_!”

“All right, you could have just said no! I’ll take it elsewhere...”

“Ha! You can try! I can’t imagine _anyone_ brave enough to publish this. You might as well give it up—you’ll make no money out of this.”

“It’s not a bad novel. You barely read the prologue. Please, Kuragi-san, can’t you give it a chance? I need this money!”

“Try again, Takahashi-san. I publish _good_ writers, not desperate ones.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Of course I’m not as perfect as _you_ —who is? I merely tried to appeal to your kindness and sense of common decency. What a fool I was—chasing something that did not exist!”

“How dare you!”

Shigeru jumped back as the door swung open, bouncing off of the wall with a loud _crack_. Kazuma stormed through, with a darker glower adorning his face than Shigeru had ever seen on the easygoing man. “Takahashi-sensei, what—?”

“My apologies for not waiting for you, Kuruma-san,” he said stiffly, “but I cannot tolerate the presence of that _witch_ any longer. I’m surprised that _you_ can.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Shigeru said gently. “Listen, things start up in about half an hour, so if you want to go calm down in the crime and mystery section...?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Kazuma sighed, striding quickly away. “I will see you then, Kuruma-san.”

Shigeru walked a little nervously into the cafe, where Chihiro was drinking a glass of iced tea with a sour look on her face.

“I do hope you’re not infectious,” she said acidly. “I shouldn’t want _my_ talents to go down the drain like poor Kazuma-kun’s.”

“Quite,” Shigeru said, looking around. “What happened to Higurashi-sensei?”

“Oh, he’ll probably be back soon,” she said dismissively. “He said he’d promised to get a couple of souvenirs for his wife, and wanted to do that before the convention got underway.”

“Well, that call was another cancel, followed by two others who are going to be late, so I suppose we might as well start once Higurashi-sensei and Watanabe-sensei get here,” Shigeru suggested.

“Fine,” Chihiro agreed, still sounding a little angry. “I shall meet you in the crime and mystery section, then.”

“Looking forward to it, Kuragi-sensei.”

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“Well, well. Hattori Heiji. What are you doing here?”

_Oh, Kami..._

“Yo, Hakuba,” Heiji said with a sigh as he turned to face the other teen detective. “I should be askin’ you that. I _live_ here.”

“I’m just here for the mystery novel convention,” Hakuba said, gesturing at the large bookstore a few doors down as he caught up to Heiji, “and of course, to catch Kid. Are you coming to the convention as well?”

“Yeah,” Heiji said, now regretting it. “Kaa-san’s at a pal’s birthday party, but she’s mad on mystery books so she asked me t’get her loadsa autographs.”

“Looks like quite a number of big names didn’t make it,” Hakuba said, pretty much ignoring Heiji as usual, running a glance down the list of writers present posted at the door. “Ah, we’re just in time for a reading from Kuragi Chihiro-sensei!”

“What? It’s starting?!”

“Excuse us!”

Heiji and Hakuba jumped aside as a young man and woman ran past them, pushing through the crowds headed for the crime and mystery section.

“Was that Watanabe Hiromi-sensei?” Hakuba said in surprise, heading for the crowd. Heiji, however, headed towards the magazine aisle. “Hey, where are you going?”

“Shortcut,” Heiji said, jogging down the almost-empty aisle. “Ya can skip the crowds if ya head down here... here we go...” He pulled a turnstile display with calendars on it out of the way and ended up at the crime and mystery section, right in front of the bookcases where four writers were sitting with their newest books displayed.

“It _is_ Watanabe Hiromi-sensei!” Hakuba said approvingly. “Ah, and that’s Higurashi Kenji-sensei... and Takahashi Kazuma-sensei, I’m surprised he’s here, he hasn’t published anything this year... oh, and Kuragi Chihiro-sensei!”

The woman in question had stood up, to cheering from the crowd and rather pinched looks from the other authors, as well as a man standing to one side whom Heiji vaguely recognised as the owner of the bookstore.

“Thank you all for coming,” she called, holding up the book. “I’m going to give you a treat today—I’m going to read the prologue of my newest book, _Crimson Moon_. Copies are available to buy behind me and at the desk—I’ll be signing them later.” With a smile, she kissed the book lightly, before pressing her fingers to her lips to blow a kiss to the audience.

It never left her lips. She froze, her eyes widening, an odd whimper escaping her lips. The book fell from her shaking fingers as she fell to her knees, clutching her throat and gasping. People in the crowd screamed, some pushing to get away and others pushing to see in some morbid fascination.

“Kuragi-sensei!” the owner cried, running over to catch her as she slumped backwards. Heiji was already running, ducking the ropes separating the crowd from the authors and pulling out his phone as he did so.

“Otaki-han, we need an ambulance and some cops at the Kuruma Bookstore, stat!” he hollered. Chihiro’s eyes were rolling up into her head as he body convulsed, only stifled gasps leaving her gaping mouth.

“Kuragi-sensei!” the owner cried in horror, shaking her.

“Don’t do that!” Heiji yelled. “Lie ‘er down flat!” The owner backed away, bumping into the bookshelves as Heiji laid Chihiro on the floor, trying to tip her head back. But it was too late. With a last shuddering gasp, she fell still.

“Scratch the ambulance, Otaki-han,” Heiji said into the phone. “Just get down here.” Hakuba was nowhere to be seen, but Heiji could hear him calling to the store staff to lock all of the doors and guard the emergency exits while trying to calm the screaming crowd. Heiji eyed the book lying on the floor with a smudged lipstick stain on it.

_Was it...?_

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“Whaddya mean, there were no traces of poison?!” Heiji cried.

“You cannot be serious,” Hakuba muttered, for once united with Heiji in indignation.

“There was nothing on the book, Hei-chan,” Otaki said. He sounded confused too. “It was only on her fingers and lips. She must have touched something else. We’ll test the rest of the area, but...”

“Can you tell us your movements prior to the murder?” Hakuba said to the three surviving novelists and the store owner. They had adjourned to the cafe. All of the employees and patrons had been asked to remain in the front entrance under the watchful eye of the police, but the novelists and the store owner were the main suspects as the only ones in the store who knew her personally. All looked nervous, bearing that little tinge of “guilty secret” that detectives were so good at spotting. It was only a question of whose guilty secret concerned murder.

“I-I’m Kuruma Shigeru, the store owner,” the middle-aged, heavyset man said. He didn’t look older than his late thirties or early forties, really, but his hair was already grey. “Kuragi-san got here with the other three at about twelve. I met them at the front entrance and we came up to the cafe to get schedules and hotel keys. We then went down to the crime and mystery section, because she’d brought her own copy of _Crimson Moon_ and wanted to read from it later, so she was going to leave it down there. We were all together until that point, but after that, I had to take a few calls before returning to the cafe. Up there, I met Kuragi-sensei and at ten to one, we came down here together in time for the readings to start at one.”

“Where were the rest of you in between times?” Hakuba asked, addressing the novelists and scribbling rapidly in his notebook.

“I’m Higurashi Makoto,” the younger man said. “I started to go back up to the cafe, but then I remembered that I’d promised to get a couple of souvenirs for my wife.” He held up a blue shopping bag by way of proof. His hand was shaking a little. “I… ran into Hiromi-chan on my way back. We got here about one.”

“Where’d _you_ been, then?” Heiji asked the woman. She jumped when he addressed her. She seemed more nervy than the others. “Watanabe Hiromi-han, right?”

“Um, yes,” she said. She was very pale-faced. “I went to my hotel room to drop off my luggage. I-I was nearly late back because it’s quite a ways away from here.”

“And you, Takahashi Kazuma-sensei”? Hakuba asked, turning to the last man, perhaps a couple of years younger than Shigeru though his hair was still dark.

“Ah, I was in the cafe with Kuragi-san,” he said a little nervously, “But I left early because we had an argument. I went down to the crime and mystery section at about quarter to one.”

“You were alone down there?” Otaki asked sharply.

Kazuma gulped and nodded. “A-am I a suspect?” he asked.

Otaki nodded. “You all are,” he said, “for now.”

“Um, Keiji-san, this might not be relevant, but, well...” Hiromi said tremulously, “When I was at the hotel, I, um, I felt like... someone was _watching_ me. Once, when I turned around, I could have sworn I saw someone duck out of sight...”

“So it’s possible that an outside party was involved,” Otaki said with a curt nod. “Noted. Now, if you could remain here, we’re going to inspect the crime scene.”


	8. Murder Mystery

“So whaddya think?” Heiji mused as they descended the stairs. _Well, he ain’t Kudo, an’ he_ is _one a’ the most annoyin’ pricks on th’ planet… but I guess two detectives are better’n one..._ “They’re all pretty suspect.”

“The crucial time is between her arrival at twelve and her death at five past one,” Hakuba said, consulting his notes. “And they were all alone at some point during that time.”

“They all coulda come here,” Heiji said, glancing around as they reached the crime scene. “Takahashi-han already admitted he was alone here, but Higurashi-han and Watanabe-han coulda come too. She was lyin’ about the hotel bein’ a ways away—it’s just around the corner, which makes her ‘someone followin’ me’ story pretty suspect too. An’ that gift shop Higurashi-han’s got the bag from’s just down the road. Both of ‘em could’ve snuck back at some point, then left an’ returned when we did.”

“Yes, and that’s very suspicious, and not just in regards to the murder,” Hakuba said thoughtfully. “The girl at the desk said that Kuruma-san went straight to the cafe after he’d finished taking calls, but he’s the store owner—he could have gone anywhere on the... hmm?”

“Whassup?” Heiji said, following Hakuba’s gaze. “Hold the phone...”

Hakuba knelt down, pulling his gloves on. The white outline of Kuragi Chihiro’s body had been smudged slightly. On top of that, the copy of _Crimson Moon_ was leaning slightly against the base of the bookcase.

“Hey, Otaki-han,” Heiji said, not taking his eyes off of the book, “when you guys tested the book, I thought ya put it back afterwards?”

“We put it back the very place we picked it up,” Otaki confirmed. “Under the desk.”

“Then what’s it doin’ over here?” Heiji wondered, pulling on his gloves and taking it from Hakuba as he pulled out a tub of powder. The only prints on it, however, were Chihiro’s, as well as some of Shigeru’s, from when he’d set up the display.

“No proof these weren’t from him settin’ up the display,” Heiji said with a shrug, “But it don’t rule ‘im out, either.”

“Actually, this would seem to be in favour of Watanabe-sensei’s theory,” Hakuba said. “This was moved after the police arrived, but Kuruma-san has been in the cafe since then. That suggests that someone wearing gloves moved this.”

“So yer thinkin’ there’s another party involved?” Heiji mused. “Wonder if they removed anythin’...” He glanced over at the other copies of _Crimson Moon_ lining the shelves. His eye caught the clock.

“Two already?!” he yelped. “Crap, I was supposed to be meetin’ ‘im off the train in half ‘n hour...”

“Oh, that’s right,” Otaki said. “Aren’t Mori-san and his family coming? You might want to give them a call, Hei-chan. Unless the murderer confesses now, I doubt you’ll be able to meet them in time...”

“Yeah, I might hafta call Kazuha ta get ‘em...” Heiji said, dialling Kudo Shinichi’s mobile number. The Detective of the East picked up after a dozen rings.

“What took ya so long?” Heiji said.

“ _You called Kudo Shinichi’s mobile, barou. I can’t let Ran see me answer it. I had to pretend I needed the bathroom. What’s happening?_ ”

“Listen, Kazuha’s gonna hafta meet ya,” Heiji said quickly. “I kinda got tangled up in a case at the Kuruma Bookstore.”

“ _Kuruma Boo... isn’t that where the mystery novel convention is?_ ”

“Yeah, one’ve the novelists got murdered. We got four suspects...” He relayed the details. Shinichi listened in silence. There was quiet for a minute after Heiji had stopped speaking.

“ _Not good,_ ” Shinichi said finally. “ _Four shaky alibis and no sign of the poison on anything else... Not even on the book..._ ”

“Damn. You stuck too? Hell, even Hakuba’s around and we got nothin’...”

“ _Hey, was anything missing from the murder scene?_ ”

“Actually, no,” Heiji admitted, glancing over at the desks. “Just that book moved. Why?”

“ _Well, I hope you find some evidence. I’m pretty certain this case is gonna be solved soon, though._ ”

“What? How?” Heiji said in surprise. “Hey Kudo, c’mon... have ya figured it out?”

“ _Nope. But why are you calling on Sherlock with Mycroft at hand?_ ”

“Mycroft? What? What’re you—”

“ _Later, Hattori._ ”

“Kudo? Hey, Kudo! Crap.”

Heiji stowed his phone away as he knelt down at where the book had been moved to. _Not even on the book..._

Hold on a minute.

He reached out to the books on the shelves.

“Well, at the moment, most of the evidence points to Takahashi-sensei,” Hakuba was saying, looking at his notebook. “He has a motive—whatever that argument was about. He was alone at the crime scene... But then there’s that mysterious outsider...”

Heiji smiled when he saw what he was looking for. _The murder weapon_.

“Check it out, Hakuba. I think we’d better go see our suspects.”

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“What’s going on?” Hiromi asked as the two teen detectives returned to the cafe. “Have you caught the murderer? It’s that mystery outsider, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so,” Heiji said, setting a copy of _Crimson Moon_ on one of the tables, a red smudge of lipstick visible to them all. “But we _did_ find the murder weapon.”

“The test came up positive, Hei-chan,” Otaki said. “That book is coated in arsenic.”

“Yes,” Hakuba said to the four confused faces, “There were two books. This is proved by the fact that the book found at the scene had no arsenic on it—not even on the fingerprints. If she had picked up the poison elsewhere, if it was on her fingers, surely it should have been on the fingerprint? But the murderer, finding themselves alone with the book, and knowing Kuragi-sensei’s habit of kissing her books and blowing the kiss, coated it in arsenic so that, at the reading, she would ingest the poison from the kiss and her fingertips. Later, once the police had gotten here, they took an opportunity to swap the poisoned book with a clean one from the shelves...”

“At least, that’s assumin’ that the murderer  was th’ one messin’ with the crime scene,” Heiji said.

“I’ve learned my lesson about assuming that the thief is the culprit, thank you,” Hakuba said, glaring slightly at Heiji. “As I was about to say, there was someone else who could have gotten to the scene after the murder—the ‘mysterious outsider’.”

“Who was it?” Kenji said frantically. “Who was spying on Hiromi-chan?”

“Not _spyin_ ’,” Heiji said, “ _investigatin’_. There’s another detective here.” He turned to the doorway, where a vaguely familiar, moustached man in glasses and a tuxedo had just entered. “Am I right?”

“My apologies for startling you, Watanabe-san,” he said with a polite nod. “But I’m afraid Higurashi-san’s wife asked a favour of me.” Kenji and Hiromi both blanched.

“Kudo-sensei!” Shigeru gasped. “What are you doing here?”

Heiji stared at the man for a second before snapping his fingers. _Kudo? Ah..._

“Well, apparently I refused my invitation to come,” Kudo Yuusaku said, crossing over to them, “Although I can’t recall ever seeing it. Primarily, Yukiko had been talking to Higurashi-san’s wife, who was understandably distressed after discovering the relationship between Higurashi-san and Watanabe-san.”

“Ya got that one right on the money, Hakuba,” Heiji muttered.

Hakuba nodded. “Both of you lied about how far you had to travel for your errands, meaning that you were buying time for something else,” the blond detective explained. “One person doing it would instantly have been a murder suspect, but _two_ of you...”

“’Course, that does rule ya out as murder suspects,” Heiji said. “As fer bein’ _adultery_ suspects...”

“That is something to be dealt with later,” Yuusaku said, glaring at the pair. They were staring at their feet, like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “Of course, the ‘mystery outsider’ is also ruled out.”

“You were th’ one messin’ with the crime scene, weren’t ya?” Heiji said. “Investigatin’ it, anyways. When I found th’ poisoned book, I realized it wasn’t the criminal, since they would’ve gotten rid’ve it if they’d been there alone. Then I heard from... well, I had an inklin’ there’d be another detective here.”

“Correct,” Yuusaku said, with a little wink. “I found the book too, but I thought it best to let the police find it for themselves. Simply wandering onto the scene and pointing things out generally makes yourself suspicious unless the police know you well enough. That was why I moved the book on the floor. I believed that you’d notice it and investigate.”

“So that leaves us with two suspects,” Hakuba said, watching Yuusaku with a mix of surprise and admiration, “Kuruma-san and Takahashi-san. At the moment, Takahashi-san is the primary suspect, due to the fact that he was at the crime scene alone before Kuragi-san’s death, and the fact that he was arguing with her earlier—”

“N-no! I didn’t do it!” Kazuma cried, shooting to his feet. “I hated her...  I _needed_ that money for my wedding, but she put the bad word out on my new book and now no-one will publish it... she’s ruined my career—but I didn’t kill her, I swear! Kudo-kun, please believe me...”

“We don’t really have any evidence one way or th’ other,” Heiji said, cutting him off. “I wasn’t watchin’ either of ‘em too carefully, too busy tryin’ ta help Kuragi-han... what about you, Hakuba?”

“I went to seal off the entrances,” Hakuba replied. “Due to the suddenness of it, I suspected a dart or similar at first...”

“But if your theory is correct,” Yuusaku said, indicating Heiji, “The murderer switched the books while everyone was distracted by Kuragi-san’s death throes. That person must have been near to Kuragi-san.”

Heiji and Hakuba looked at each other, each mentally drawing up an image of the murder scene. At almost the same moment, they realized.

“Ah!”

“Correct,” Yuusaku said again, as if reading their thoughts. “I already knew who the murderer was, but I’m afraid I did not realize who the target was until it was too late. You see,” he said, turning to the trembling murderer, “As I mentioned, Yukiko was speaking to Higurashi-san’s wife when she mentioned this convention. She had heard that I had been invited but had turned it down, and was asking me to reconsider to find out the truth about her wandering husband. I was surprised, considering I’d never heard of the event. I contacted a few other authors and found that certain others had, apparently, turned down invitations that they had never received. There was one thing that we all had in common—all of us, in the past, had been detectives, known detectives or done detective work. Someone wanted detectives away from the convention—someone, clearly, with murder on their minds. Whoever it was had been able to select who was invited and make it appear that those who weren’t had simply refused. The murderer had to have control over the guest list, and only one person did. Kuruma-san... _It was you!_ ”

Kuruma Shigeru backed away, white-faced. “Kudo-sensei...” he gasped.

“You were th’ one nearest ta Kuragi-han when she collapsed,” Heiji said. He and Hakuba moved around to surround Kuruma, preventing him from escaping. “When ya backed away, when I was helpin’ her, ya switched the books.”

“You own the store,” Hakuba continued. “It would have been easy for you to prepare one of the books on the shelves with arsenic, and you closed off the area all day so no-one would buy one. It would have been simple enough for you to switch the books on the way back from the phone. You thought there would be time to dispose of the book later, once someone else had taken the fall.”

“I... I...” Shigeru sank to his knees, dropping his head into his hands.

“It was because of the book, wasn’t it,” Yuusaku said quietly. “ _White Sun_. Her first book. There were rumours...”

“It was mine,” Shigeru rasped out. “That woman... she was the boss of a small publisher’s... I couldn’t afford a large one. She read it and smiled and told me she’d publish it. I was so happy... I signed the paperwork as fast as I could. But... that _witch_...” He looked up, his eyes blazing with anger. “The next thing I knew, it was in bookstores with _her_ name on it! When I confronted her about it, she just sneered and pointed out the contract... I’d signed every character of it into her possession! She stole my work and never gave me a yen, and there was nothing I could do because... I’d _signed_ , and it was _legal_ , dammit...” He choked out a sob, wiping his eyes as fat tears began to spill out of them. “I tried to write again, but I couldn’t do it anymore, I just couldn’t.... in the end, I gave up and opened the bookstore. But every time I saw a book with her name on it cross my tills... I knew she’d done the same to other writers, but there was nothing we could do. But I couldn’t forgive her... that witch who stole people’s dreams... I _couldn’t_...”

“Theft is a terrible crime, Kuruma-san,” Yuusaku said sternly, “but the most terrible form of it is the theft of human life... no matter how lowly that life may seem.”

Shigeru barked out a little laugh as Otaki cuffed him. “I guess you’re right, Kudo-sensei... perhaps I should have just hired you to investigate her instead, eh?”

“I’m not actually a detective, you know,” Yuusaku said, stepping aside to let the police lead him away.

“No,” Shigeru said with a smile, “neither was Mycroft.”

“Geez, he coulda told me,” Heiji muttered, watching the ex-novelist be led away. “He _knew_ this was gonna happen. Little...”

“ _Who_ are you talking about, Hattori?” Hakuba said, staring at him with his usual expression, which suggested that Heiji was pretty much insane.

“Never mind,” Heiji said quickly. “Anyways, nice ta meetcha, Kudo-han. Yer Kudo’s old man, aint’cha? Kudo Shinichi, I mean.”

“You’re Hattori Heiji,” Yuusaku said, shaking Heiji’s hand. “Both Shinichi and Yukiko have mentioned you.”

“Kudo Shinichi? Where have I heard that name before?” Hakuba said thoughtfully. Heiji sighed.

“The Tantei Koshien, ya baka,” he said. “’Member? He got invited ta represent the East?”

“Oh, yes, him,” Hakuba said dismissively. “The one that never showed up. Well, it doesn’t matter. We solved that one without him...”

“Yeah, we got it _wrong_ , remember?” Heiji said, glaring at the blond teen Tantei. “Had ta be lead ta the answer by a seven-year-old kid.” He caught Yuusaku’s eye as the novelist raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Well, suppose it ain’t Kudo’s fault he wasn’t there. He’s got his own li’l problems ta sort out.” Yuusaku’s cheek muscles twitched as he kept his amusement to a grin.

“You aren’t _embarrassed_ by being out-thought by a mere child?” Hakuba said, a little testily, missing the joke entirely. “Not that _you_ have very high standards to drop...”

“Watch it—” Heiji began, before his watch beeped. “Half-past... that train oughta be... ah, crap!” He suddenly yelled. “I forgot ta call Kazuha! Geez, they’ll be waitin’ at the station...”

“Idiot,” Hakuba muttered as Heiji ran for the stairs. “Hakuba Saguru. Nice working with you.”

“Quite,” Yuusaku said with a smile. “If you’ll excuse me...”

“Let him know his watch is two minutes and forty-two seconds slow,” Hakuba called after him.

He caught up to Heiji at the entrance. “Are you meeting Kogoro-kun, Ran-kun and, ah... _Conan-_ kun?”

“Y... yeah,” Heiji said, glancing nervously at his watch again. “Damn, I’m gonna be so late...”

“We’re parked just around the corner since we were planning to meet them anyway,” Yuusaku said, leading Heiji towards the car. “If we let Yukiko drive, we should make it in time...”

“Whaddya mean?” Heiji said in confusion.

Yuusaku stopped and looked at him for a second with an amused expression on his face. “Hattori-kun, have you ever ridden in a car driven by Yukiko in a hurry?” he asked.

Heiji shook his head. “Nah,” he said, “we took th’ train ta that freaky monster party thing. Why?”

“I think you’re in for an interesting experience,” Yuusaku said with a rather worrying grin as he turned and headed for the car.


	9. The Calm Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, while I referred to the events of the movies sometimes infic (how many were out in 2008? 12?) I kept to the manga canon on whether or not Kaitou Kid knew Conan's identity. In the movies he does, but in the manga he doesn't, and nor does Shinichi know Kid's identity, although he seems to be aware of Kuroba Toichi, and Yuusaku at least knew about Toichi's night job...

“It could have been worse, Hattori,” Shinichi said consolingly. “At least she didn’t have her Jaguar E-type.”

“I hope spring comes soon so I can ride my bike again,” Hattori muttered, his voice slightly muffled by the fact that his head was pressed into his crossed arms, resting on top of the railing. They had met Kazuha at Osaka Castle, and the men had wandered ahead of the chattering girls. Heiji had been about as pale as he ever got since he’d turned up at the station with Yuusaku and Yukiko, only a couple of minutes late.

“Was it that bad?” Yuusaku said with a little laugh.

Heiji glared at him, and then at Shinichi. “By the way, ya coulda just told me yer oyaji was gonna be here,” he said accusingly.

“Sorry,” Shinichi said, looking completely unrepentant. “Ran was knocking on the stall door, asking me what was taking so long...”

“So you haven’t told her yet?” Yuusaku asked, glancing back at Ran. Shinichi shook his head vehemently.

“Hell, no,” he said, wincing as the memory of the dream, vivid and real, sprang up in his mind. “I’m not letting anyone know unless it’s absolutely necessary or they’re _really_ persistent.” Glare at Heiji. “I’ve seen what happens to witnesses—what’s _supposed_ to happen, anyway. Given how much I’ve found out about the Syndicate, if they found out who I am, they’d kill anyone whom they even _vaguely_ suspect of knowing the truth. The only way to keep her safe is complete and utter ignorance.”

“And yet, you didn’t put so much effort into fooling us,” Yuusaku said, raising an eyebrow.

“Agasa-Hakase had already told you guys everything, so what could I do?” Shinichi said, scowling at the memory of the terrifying trick they’d played on him to make him realize how much danger he was in, as if he didn’t already know very well. “Besides, you’re in LA almost all of the time—too distant for you to have too much of a clue about what’s happening here, I guess. It’s obvious that they think you guys are disconnected because they only searched our house in Beika when my body never turned up, and not yours in LA. Pretty much the same thing for you, Hattori. They have no way of knowing that you’ve ever even _met_ me. I doubt they know you exist.”

“Nice ta feel cared for,” Heiji commented.

“But they searched _everything_ , according to Haibara. Looking for any trace of life. They would’ve found pictures of Ran and me in my room, and five minutes’ conversation with anyone from my school would be enough to convince them that if anyone knew where I was, it would be her. I can’t give them any indication that there’s anything to look for... and she can’t give them any indication that there’s anything she can tell them. The best way to do that is ensure that there really _isn’t_ anything she can tell them.”

“Aside from the part where yer actually alive, she knows that,” Heiji said. Shinichi hopped off of the railing he’d been standing on to get a little closer to their height as they started walking again in order to prevent Kazuha and Ran from hearing their conversation. “She don’t know it’s a secret, does she?”

“Well, no,” Shinichi admitted, “but she doesn’t talk about me that much, so I guess she’s decided that whatever case I’m on, it’s not meant to be public knowledge.”

“Speaking of the case, how is that going?” Yuusaku asked. “Have you found anything out since...?”

“Quite a bit, actually,” Shinichi said, brightening up a little. “I’ve also made a few helpful contacts, although none of them know I’m Kudo Shinichi, mainly because none of them have ever met me before. There’s Jodie-sensei, or **FBI special agent Starling** , for one. I’ve worked with her and her colleagues a couple of times—mainly her supervisor James Black-san and fellow agents Andre Camel-san and Akai Shuuichi-san.”

“James Black?” Yuusaku said thoughtfully. “So he’s still with the FBI?”

“Ya know FBI agents?” Heiji said in surprise.

“I worked with everyone back in the day,” Yuusaku replied. “James is an officer now? Good for him. Haven’t heard from him in years. Not met the other two, however...”

“Yer not gonna meet one’ve ‘em,” Heiji said. “I saw a piece on the news about some unsolved murder. Said an Akai Shuuichi-han was found in a burnin’ vehicle with a hole in ‘is head. Oyaji mentioned that th’ FBI had taken over full control a’ _that_ investigation.”

“Yeah, Mizunashi-san was forced to kill him to prove her loyalty to the Syndicate,” Shinichi explained.”Mizunashi Rena, real name CIA agent Hondo Hidemi. She’s a **noc** , and she’s in deep, which means she can pass vital information to Jodie-sensei.”

“Hold the phone,” Heiji blurted out. “She _killed_ an FBI agent! What’s a **noc** , anyway?”

“ **Non-Official Cover** : A CIA term for a special infiltrator,” Yuusaku explained. “I didn’t think they used them anymore, but they infiltrate the highest levels of criminal organizations by earning the trust of highly-placed members. To do this, however, they are licensed to murder... blackmail... kidnap... torture... whatever it takes to get to the top. It’s a highly-paid profession, and **noc** s are often vital to bringing down dangerous criminal organizations, but even the best rarely go on such a mission more than once, even if they survive. The things they have to do to win the criminals’ trust tax their consciences too greatly.”

“Like kill FBI agents,” Shinichi said quietly. “Akai-san was my friend, but... I can’t hold it against her. If she’d refused, she would have been killed, and we’d have lost our most valuable source of information. Besides, she made it clear from the beginning that her first priority was finishing her mission, and she would do whatever— _whatever_ —it took to do that.”

“Geez, Kudo,” Heiji sighed, “Yer workin’ with the FBI an’ the CIA now as well? At this rate, Edogawa Conan’s gonna be as well known t’ the Syndicate as Kudo Shinichi...” he trailed off, looking thoughtful. “Hey, _are_ ya workin’ with ‘em? Don’t they find that kinda weird? I mean, ya said they think yer a kid, right?”

“Yeah,” Shinichi said, “But Jodie-sensei just thinks I’m an unbelievably smart kid, and after that plan I set up at the hospital worked perfectly, everyone else seems inclined to agree. I guess they’re just used to me. Jodie-sensei occasionally bugs me for clues as to why a grade-schooler is so set against the Syndicate, but she’s getting nothing. At the moment, I think her conspiracy theories mainly centre around dead parents, pretty much the same situation that she and Mizunashi-san are in.”

“Kinda weird, ain’t it?” Heiji said. “Haven’t ya noticed, Kudo? Even around people who ain’t in the know, ya ain’t actin’ like such a li’l kid anymore. When I first met ya, ya passed off as a first-grader pretty well, but ya don’t act much like a third-grader now. But nobody says anythin’, ‘cause they’re used to ya bein’ a bright kid. If anyone stopped an’ thought about it fer a minute, I think it’d be pretty obvious that a kid you ain’t.”

“Glad no-one _does_ stop to think about it,” Shinichi said feverently. “Although Eri-obasan always gives me funny looks... like the other day, when we ran into her at that murder...”

Five police cars drove past, headed for the Osaka museum. Yuusaku watched them go with interest. “So, when’s the heist?” he asked.

“Sometime after midnight on the morning of the twenty-first,” Shinichi said. “When, precisely, we don’t know, but since we have the target and approximate time, we should be able to keep a lookout for him...”

“Oh yeah, Nakamori-keibu’s gettin’ here in the mornin’ with his unit,” Heiji said. “We’re headin’ fer the museum ‘round about lunchtime tomorrow ta check things out. Ya comin’, Kudo? Both of ya?”

“Of course,” Shinichi said. “What about you, Tou-san?”

“Yes, I think I’ll be there,” Yuusaku said thoughtfully. “It should be... _interesting_ , to say the least, to cross paths with the Kaitou Kid again. I was very surprised when he returned. I was under the impression that he had died.”

“Guess he didn’t,” Heiji said, “but ya gotta wonder why he _did_ vanish.”

“It wasn’t even as if he made a big production of leaving, which was odd, especially for him,” Yuusaku said. “He just gave out a notice for a heist in three days, and never turned up. No other notice came from him, nor did he appear at all, for eight years. That was why everyone thought he’d been killed.”

“Maybe he got injured or somethin’,” Heiji said. “Or... I dunno. Eight years is a kinda random time difference, though. Thieves generally just disappear for ‘bout fifteen years, ‘till the statute of limitations runs out. Wonder what he was doin’? I mean, it ain’t like he ever kept anythin’, so it ain’t that he just ran outta spendin’ loot...”

“Both of you have faced Kid since he reappeared, haven’t you?” Yuusaku asked. “Did you ever get a good look at his face?”

“Not really,” Shinichi said with a shrug. “The darkness and that stupid monocle generally get in the way if he isn’t wearing a mask... all I got was the impression that he’s surprisingly young. He looked about early twenties at the _very_ oldest, but he should be in his late thirties at least. I’d guess it’s just another mask, but it bugs me.”

“Indeed,” Yuusaku said thoughtfully. “Perhaps—”

He stopped when Heiji’s cell phone rang. “Yo?” Heiji said, picking it up. “What? Oh, yeah. Yeah. Just a mo.” He covered the mouthpiece as he turned to face the Kudos. “Hey, that’s Ofukuro. She says if we don’t get our asses home, she’s feedin’ our tea ta the cat. Hey, you two wanna come with fer dinner?” he said, addressing Yuusaku.

“That sounds nice,” Yuusaku said. “We were just going to eat in the hotel anyway. Is that alright?”

“Should be, Ofukuro’s nuts fer mysteries. Hold on a mo... Hey, Ofukuro? Alright if ya add two more ta that? Yeah, yeah, I know... no, listen, it’s Kudo’s parents, we ran inta ‘em here... yeah, Kudo Yuusaku-han. Yeah. That one, yeah. Cool. Alright, we’ll be back by then... cool. Later.” He clicked the phone closed and stuck it back into his pocket. “Yeah, Ofukuro’s cool ta invite ya. She might ask ya ta autograph everythin’ she owns, though.”

“That’s all right,” Yuusaku said with a laugh. “We should probably head back to the car, then. And go drag Kogoro-kun out of the bar.”

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“We’re going to stay at the museum all day to investigate the security arrangements,” Yuusaku explained, “and then of course we’ll be here until morning to catch Kid. What about you?”

“Like we’re gonna hang around all day while you Tantei-otaku are fiddlin’ with security cameras,” Kazuha snorted. “But it’s been a long time since Ran-chan came to Osaka, and Yukiko-san’s never been! With no guys around, I’m showin’ ‘em the shoppin’ today!” Kazuha had been psyched to meet a movie star, even a retired one, and had taken all of them sightseeing all over Osaka over the past couple of days.

 _Well, at least this time we finished our tour without anyone getting murdered,_ Shinichi thought ruefully.

“You’re shopping in Osaka? Um... do you mind if I come with you?”

Everyone turned. Hakuba had just entered with a girl about Ran’s age. She looked quite a bit like Ran, but her short, messy hair was quite a bit lighter and she was dressed more childishly than Ran ever did, in a pink dress and white cardigan.

“Kudo-Sensei, Hattori, Conan-kun, Mori-sensei, Mori-san... nice to see you all again,” Hakuba said, bowing courteously. He was dressed as strictly as ever, in a black suit and tie and blue shirt that actually made him look like as if Kid had joined the Men In Black ( _Not that I’m ever going to say that to his face_ , Shinichi thought) “And nice to meet you ladies,” he added, turning to Yukiko and Kazuha. “I’m Hakuba Saguru. This is Nakamori Aoko.”

“Oh, so _you’re_ that arrogant foreign detective?” Kazuha said bluntly. Then she smiled at Aoko. “Nice to meet ya, Nakamori-san... hey... Nakamori... are you...?”

“Otou-san is leading the Kid investigation, yeah,” Aoko said. “But I know he, Hakuba-kun and Kaito are going to be busy here all day, and I spend too much time hanging around with cops as it is, so if it’s not too much trouble, can I come with you?”

“Of course!” Ran said. “Oh, I’m Mori Ran, and this is Toyama Kazuha and Kudo Yukiko... leave Kid to the boys and come shopping without ‘em!”

“Great!” Aoko laughed. “Hakuba-kun, will you tell Otou-san and Kaito where I went when they get here? They’re just checking in with the police chief, I think...”

“Of course,” Hakuba said, kissing her hand.

“But we _are_ coming back tonight to see the heist, right?” Yukiko said, clapping her hands excitedly. “I haven’t seen a Kid heist live in _years_!”

“Of course!” Ran said as they turned to leave, she and Kazuha sweeping Aoko away between them. She waved at Shinichi and her father over her shoulder, calling back, “we’ll bring takeaways!”

“So your girlfriend’s Otou-san is the head of the Kid hunt?” Kogoro grumbled. “No wonder you’re obsessed with that thief... The wannabe PI and his buddy the detective’s daughter... _again_...”

“Aoko-san isn’t my girlfriend,” Hakuba sighed with a deeply dejected expression. Heiji and Shinichi exchanged looks, Heiji grinning broadly.

“Which means th’ _real_ reason yer obsessed with Kid’s that yer hopin’ ta impress her, eh?” Heiji chuckled.

“Who’s Kaito?” Yuusaku asked, interrupting their teasing. Hakuba scowled at the name.

“She calls him by his first name, so is _he_ really her boyfriend?” Kogoro asked, glancing at Heiji. “Sounds like the same old story...” Shinichi involuntarily flushed, but no-one noticed.

“As good as,” Hakuba said, scowling deeper. “His name’s Kuroba Kaito. He’s in our class, and he’s been Aoko’s best friend since grade school.”

“Sounds like you’re out of luck, kid,” Kogoro said, glancing at the museum doors. “Excuse me...”

“If she already likes this guy, it ain’t like she’d gonna drop him just because you caught Kid, right?” Heiji asked. “I mean, it ain’t like putting Kid behind bars would make _him_ vanish...”

Hakuba smiled grimly. “Actually...”

“Kuroba... any relation to Kuroba Toichi? The Master of Illusions?” Yuusaku interjected.

“Mmm... I believe so,” Hakuba replied, looking thoughtful. “I’ll admit that I know little about his family. But he _is_ obsessed with magic himself. It wouldn’t be that surprising if he was related to one of the greatest magicians in Japan...”

“Try the _world_ , Hakuba. He was my Tou-san.”

Nakamori had just walked through the door some distance away, and was currently engaged in a war of cheek-pulling with Kogoro. They’d clearly already gotten to the poor guy who’d just turned up behind Hakuba, who was already sporting one bright red cheek himself. He was wearing a black hoodie with a white ace of spades logo on it and torn jeans. Heiji and Shinichi stared at him in surprise.

“ _Ku_ — _?!_ ” Heiji yelped, before Shinichi kicked him on the ankle, still staring at the guy.

Hakuba was glaring daggers. “When’d you get here, Kuroba?” he asked sourly.

“Just now,” the guy said. “Nakamori-keibu’s gonna come check you all out for masks in a minute, by the way. I hope you don’t have a lot of pain receptors in your cheeks. Where’s Aoko? I thought she was with you.”

“She went out with Mori-san’s daughter and...”

Heiji leaned over to the thoughtful-looking Yuusaku and whispered loudly out of the corner of his mouth, “I didn’t know Kudo had a twin brother.”

“I don’t,” Shinichi hissed back. “Never seen the guy before.”

“ ’Cept for in the mirror every day up until about—”

“Shut up.”

 _He really_ does _look like me, though,_ Shinichi thought. If the guy used a few hundred tubs of hair gel to tame his messy mane of hair and darkened it a shade or two, they could easily twins. It was more than a little disconcerting, like the times that Kid had disguised as him.

“Kuroba-kun,” Yuusaku said, “Nice to see you again. I don’t know if you remember me—I haven’t seen you since Toichi-kun’s funeral—but I’m Kudo Yuusaku.”

“Kudo...? Hey, no, wait, I remember you!” Kaito said. He looked around nervously. “Hey, is Yukiko-san here with you? I remember her well. Gorgeous lady, but she was downright terrifying when I called her ‘oba-san’...”

“Yes, that sounds like Yukiko,” Yuusaku laughed. Hakuba glanced at him in shock. “Well, it has been a long time. Good grief, you still look exactly like Shinichi...”

“Who?” Kaito asked.

“My son. I don’t blame you for not remembering him, you two only met when you were very, very small...”

“Huh?” Shinichi said, glancing up at his father. _I’ve met this guy? Hold on... Kuroba Toichi? Wasn’t he Kaa-san’s acting sensei?_

“...Yukiko kept joking that she was going to leave with the wrong child. So, what are you doing here?”

“Nakamori-keibu keeps asking me along for advice,” Kaito said, “He needs to know how Kid thinks, and he figures he’s better off with a magician than a thief.”

“Yes, you certainly can give a valuable insight into how Kid thinks,” Hakuba commented pointedly.

Kaito rolled his eyes. “So, I’m guessing you’re here for another crack at Kid, right?” he said. “I heard you nearly caught him in the past...”

“Nearly,” Yuusaku said with a chuckle. “This is Hattori Heiji. His father’s the chief of the Osaka Police, and he’s also a detective like Hakuba-kun. And this is my nephew, Edogawa Conan.”

“Nice t’meetcha,” Heiji said, waving. Shinichi just crossed his arms behind his head and glanced over Kaito. Suddenly, the teen magician looked Shinichi straight in the eye, grinned, and winked.

“Nice to meet you guys,” he said. Hakuba just glared at him again.


	10. Preparations

_Otou-san says I met him when I was a kid,_ Shinichi reasoned, _and Hattori keeps insisting that he’s gotta be my twin... that must be it..._ But Shinichi still kept getting the unsettling feeling that he’d seen Kuroba Kaito before, and neither of these rationales felt like the right explanation.

The underground storage facility that the museum had built since Kid’s last heist was an impressive piece of work, but it seemed to Shinichi to have a whiff of Suzuki Jirokichi’s bottomless-pocket madness. There was only one elevator going down to the sub-basement level, and once there, there was something of a labyrinth of empty, identical corridors to be navigated in order to reach the storage room. Shinichi, Heiji, Yuusaku, Kaito, Hakuba, Kogoro and Nakamori were currently being led through by Heiji’s father, who was the only person to have been told the route through aside from the museum owner.

“This is one a’ those moments when I kinda _envy_ ya,” Heiji grumbled quietly as he tried to rub the little dents made by Nakamori-keibu’s fingernails out of his cheek. “Kid ain’t able ta disguise _as_ a kid...”

“Underground, so Kid’s wings are useless,” Kaito noted. “Good thought. ‘Course, if Kid does get in, he’d probably remember the route to get out again... No guards?” The passages so far had been completely empty, not only of decoration or distinction but of life as well.

“There will be two by the elevator doors,” Nakamori explained, “but the halls are mainly monitored by security cameras equipped with heat and motion sensors. If they detect anything, a series of cages will drop. Kid will be either caught in or between them.”

They stopped in front of a door as Heizo tapped in a passcode. When it opened, there was another door a few feet behind it. Behind that, Heizo explained, were three more.

“Geez... the amount it cost to build this place might end up being more than that ruby’s actually worth,” Shinichi commented dryly as Heizo tapped in the code for the fourth door.

“The curator was dead set that Kid ain’t stealing from ‘im again,” Heiji said. “He really pulled out all the stops, huh?”

“How are the codes protected?” Yuusaku asked. “Is the computer capable of dealing with hackers?”

“Mostly, although I suppose someone sufficiently skilled could break in and get the codes,” Heizo said. “But it wouldn’t help much. He’d still have to type the code in, and each key contains a fingerprint sensor. It will only react to the correct code, and only if typed in by the owner, myself or Nakamori-keibu.”

“Are there any other ways into this room?” Hakuba asked, looking around the chamber. Shinichi gave it a quick scan too, even craning up to look over the door, but it seemed sealed. It was simply a fairly small, metal-walled room, only about four tatami mats square and maybe just a little taller.

“No conveniently adult-sized ventilation shafts or similar,” Yuusaku noted.

“Why aren’t the doors closing?” Kogoro asked, glancing back into the passageway.

“Oji-san just said why,” Shinichi said. “If there are no ventilation shafts or other openings, then when the doors are closed, air can’t get in, right?” He was laying on the “kiddy” a little thicker than usual, he knew, but there were several detectives (and a magician who was rapidly proving as sharp as all of them) present who didn’t know the secret, and he didn’t propose to enlighten any of them.

“Precisely,” Nakamori said with an approving nod. “That’s why there’ll be no guards in here. The defences in the hall can’t be deactivated as long as more than one of the doors is open, and they can only be controlled from the control room. Kid will _never_ get past all of this...”

 _“_ Never say never, Nakamori-keibu,” Kaito noted, kneeling down to examine the bottom of a wall. “We’re talking about the guy who walked on air and teleported, here.”

“Any other defences within this room?” Hakuba said. He kept watching Kuroba as well.

“Kuroba-kun’s already found the lasers,” Nakamori said. “Look. They’re going to be making a web across the room. Kid won’t be able to make his way through them to the ruby.” The walls and ceiling were flat and smooth, Shinichi noted—even the lights were flat-panel to avoid presenting handholds. No doubt about it, this looked impregnable.

 _No, Kuroba’s right,_ he reminded himself with a sigh. _Make no assumptions with this jerk..._

“Well, I can’t see a way in,” Nakamori commented, glancing over the room again. “We’re going to get him this time!”

“Just make sure to double-check the guards,” Kaito commented. “Hmmm... maybe we need to remember to check you, Hattori-keibu and the curator occasionally, just in case, Nakamori-keibu,” he added to the inspector. “It would be suitably deceptive to steal the jewel in advance and swap it with a fake... these days, with the right chemicals, he could easily fake your fingerprints, so getting the code would be a simple matter of hacking.”

“That is a clever thought,” Yuusaku said thoughtfully. “Oh, the joys of modern technology...”

“I guess we’ll all have to keep an eye on each other, then, won’t we?” Hakuba said acidly. He was glaring at Kuroba again.

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“Wow! So Yuusaku-san nearly caught Kid in the past?”

“Yep!” Yukiko said with a wink. “Ah, it was a close thing, too. That thief only got away out of pure luck!”

Ran giggled. Aoko was so excited to think that someone who’d nearly caught Kid before was on the case. Aoko, it had soon become apparent as they’d got chatting, bore a hatred for Kid to rival her father’s.

“Well, his luck’s gotta run out some day, don’t it?” Kazuha proclaimed. “You’ve got four PIs on his ass today, halfa the Japanese police force, and that bright Conan kid. Funny how _Kaitou_ Kid gets beat most by a _real_ kid, huh?”

“Hey, as long as he stuffs that thief in his top hat and sends him to jail, I couldn’t care less how old he is,” Aoko stormed. “Finally get Otou-san off the damn case for the first time in twenty years... Even when Kid vanished, he didn’t give up looking for him...”

“I always wondered why Kid vanished back then,” Ran commented. “I mean, I wouldn’t say he’d made enough money—doesn’t he return everything? But he’s clearly not lost his touch either. So why...?”

“Nobody knows,” Kazuha said with a shrug. “I guess it’s just one more mystery around that guy, huh?”

“To be honest, it took me a while to notice that he’d vanished,” Yukiko admitted. “I forgot entirely about that heist, so I never noticed that he never turned up. I was still reeling over Toichi-sensei’s death...”

“Huh? You mean Kuroba Toichi? Kaito’s Otou-san?” Aoko said in surprise. “You knew him?”

“Oh, yes,” Yukiko said, smiling sadly. “Toichi-sensei and I were friends for a very long time. When I was younger, he was my acting sensei—he taught me a lot about role-play and disguises and so on, along with—” so stopped for a moment, and then started talking again, carefully pretending that there hadn’t been more to that sentence. “Well, when I heard about the accident on the radio, I couldn’t believe it! Yuusaku and I drove over there straight away. Yuusaku was so angry—of course, Toichi-sensei was a friend of his, as well. He looked over the accident scene forever, but in the end it was just bad maintenance. I feel so bad for the poor mechanic, though. He felt so guilty about it that he hanged himself...”

“Oh, that accident was _horrible_...” Aoko said, looking pale and pinched. “I was there, you know. Kaito gave me free tickets to go see the show with Otou-san—his first day off in _forever_ —but then that trapdoor just...” She shivered. “I didn’t actually see it, because Otou-san covered my eyes, but I heard Kaito yelling...” She shook her head. “I don’t think he’s ever really gotten over it, to be honest. Toichi-ojisan was the whole world to him... for a week after the funeral, he didn’t even leave his room. Ever since, he’s been completely obsessed with stage magic, as if he couldn’t already go a week without pulling a trick...”

“Oh, I remember seeing him there!” Yukiko said. “And poor Chikage-chan... well, really, I think Kaito-kun’s been a big support to her, you know. I still call her once in a while. She still seems to be quite fond of magic shows, even after what happened to Toichi-sensei.”

“Geez, that’s just nasty,” Kazuha said, shivering. The precise nature of Kuroba Toichi’s fatal accident had never been publicly stated, but Yukiko and Aoko’s conversation had given them a clear enough idea. “No wonder ya weren’t payin’ attention to Kid.”

“Well, Yuusaku didn’t seem all that surprised when it became apparent that not only had Kid not turned up for that heist, but hadn’t given any indication of another, ever,” Yukiko said. “He just said it was fitting—like all of the magic had died with Toichi-sensei.”

“Maybe whoever Kid is was a fan of Kuroba Toichi,” Ran suggested. “I mean, he’s a stage magician too, isn’t he? Maybe it was a mark of respect or something...”

“But now he’s back,” Aoko pointed out, “After eight years—kind of a strange time gap, isn’t it? Doesn’t conform to any statute of limitations or anything... It didn’t even happen anywhere near the date that Kid disappeared, or Toichi-Ojisan’s death or anything.”

“When exactly did he come back?” Kazuha asked. “I mean, we totally didn’t notice him for ages, ‘cause he was only stealin’ stuff in Tokyo...”

“A good two years ago, wasn’t it?” Yukiko said. “I was so surprised when I read about his return in the Japanese newspapers. When I told Yuusaku, he spilled coffee all over his keyboard.”

“About two and a half years, I think,” Aoko recalled. “About... June twenty-eighth. I think it was about a week after Kaito’s birthday… I remember Otou-san freaking out about it.”

“Actually, there’s a thought,” Kazuha said. When they all stared at her in surprise, she elaborated, “y’know, the part about him only nickin’ things from Tokyo. I wonder why that is? I thought he used to steal from all over the world.”

“Well, it _has_ been a good twenty years since he first appeared,” Yukiko giggled. “About time he settled down!”

“He can settle, all right—in a cell!” Aoko declared. Ran finally broke down laughing. She wasn’t the only one.

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“Arigatou Gozaimasu,” Madeline said, waving as she closed the door. Hannah rolled her eyes.

“ **We may have cleaned everything up and recarpeted the room, but face it, none of them are gonna stay there,** ” she pointed out.

“ **Aye, that’s true,** ” Bets agreed. “ **That fit American lassie’s with you, unless she comes to her senses** —” Charles blushed and kicked her—“ **But where’s Dave and Kara gonna stay? Hannah’s room?** ”

“ **Like he’ll go near it,** ” Sam said, shaking his head. “ **Don’t know about the French girl…** ”

“ **Well, since most people are doubling up with their boyfriends** —” Angela turned red as her friends’ wolf-whistling made her realize just how dodgy what she’d said actually was—“ **Oi, you know what I mean. There’ll be room for them then. Kara can have Margaret’s room, she’s never met her...** ”

“ **We’re basically doing that anyway,** ” Jonathan said, leaning back to kiss Andrew. Robert and Alan made gagging motions.

Suddenly, someone upstairs screamed. They all ran up the stairs, panicking as they followed the scream to Patrick’s room. They ran into Patrick halfway along the second floor.

“ **What’s going on?”** Alan asked frantically.

“ **What’s wrong? Was that Kirsteen? Pat, what happened?** ” Angela said. To her surprise, he grinned as he grabbed her arm and Jonathan’s and dragged them towards the stairs.

“ **It’s the Kaitou Kid!** ” he cried ecstatically. “ **It’s on the news! He’s after a ruby in Osaka! They’re giving it live coverage all night!** ”

“ **Holy** — **no _way_!”** Hannah shrieked, running for the stairs. Angela was already running full speed up the stairs, followed closely by Jonathan, both of whom were squealing at a pitch that was likely to summon bats.

“ **Pat, how do you set your DVD-recorder?** ” Angela was hollering as the rest of them made it to the third floor. “ **I’m not gonna have to watch _this_ one on YouTube!** ”

“ **Yeah, this is why she came to Japan,** ” Rose giggled as she threw herself into a beanbag. “ **Look, it’s airing the riddle at the moment!** ”

“ **Damn, I wish we were in Osaka...** ” Jonathan groaned.

 **“Well, you might get lucky and get to see him here,** ” Kirsteen said, swivelling around the screen of Tom’s laptop so they could see the homepage of the Beika Museum. “ **Check this out. I fed the page to a translation engine, and apparently they got this haul of jewels out of an old underground vault. They’re theorizing that it’s the lost treasures of the Tokugawa shoguns...** ”

“ **What, so they actually _exist_?** ” Rose snorted. Jonathan whistled as he looked at the screen.

“ **Check out the _size_ of that thing!** ” he said, indicating a pride-of-place diamond. “ **Kid’s _gotta_ go for that...** ”

“ **Shhhh! It’s starting!** ” Angela hissed, waving a hand at him, eyes fixed on the TV and a fangirl grin on her face.

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“It’s gettin’ late—whaddya mean, ya can’t get past the cordons? I thought ya had passes—oh. So just get Aikido on their asses already. All right, all right...” Heiji clicked his phone closed with a sigh. “The girls ain’t makin’ it back,” he explained. “There’s already foot-traffic jams four blocks back, and it’s probably gonna take ‘em a couple hours just ta get past that lot.”

“Ah, geez. And they promised to bring takeaways back too,” Kaito complained, thumping his head off of the backup generator that they were checking. In the event of a blackout, it would keep security power running. “I’m gonna starve.”

Shinichi’s stomach rumbled. Yuusaku noticed and chuckled, ignoring his son’s Evil Eye. “Well, this museum has a restaurant in it somewhere, right?” he suggested. “I don’t think it’s open anymore, but at least there’s bound to be food of some variety in it...”

“I just hope they’ve got some pre-cooked dishes left over and a microwave,” Kaito groaned. “You realize you’re talking to teenage boys and bachelors here.”

“There might be bento or somethin’ in the gift shop,” Heiji suggested.

“Well, hunting for food that doesn’t need preparing should kill some time,” Hakuba said as they turned to leave. “I mean, it’s only after nine now, and Kid won’t be coming until after midnight.”

“I’m not hungry,” Nakamori snorted. “I’m going to go check over the men. Hattori-kun, what about you?”

“Yes, I think I’ll come too, if only to ensure that neither of us gets switched,” Heizo agreed. “We’d better find the curator as well. Heiji, here.” He tossed a ring of museum keys to Heiji. “Good luck.”

“Thanks fer the vote of confidence,” Heiji said sarcastically, heading for the restaurant.

“Ah, I wish we’d let Ran make us bento,” Kogoro muttered depressedly. As they entered the stairwell, he lit up with a bored sigh.

“Ran-neechan’s going to kill you if she finds out you’ve been sneaking cigarettes, Oji-san,” Shinichi said sweetly. “She’s been trying to make him stop,” he added to the others.

“Rightly so,” Hakuba said, wrinkling his nose. “Disgusting habit.”

“Tell her, brat, and you’re getting the thumping of your life,” Kogoro growled, and yelped as Kaito jerked the package and cigarette from his hands.

“The museum’s non-smoking anyway, Mori-tantei,” he pointed out, jerking his thumb at the red sign, before closing the lit cigarette into his hand, flicking his wrist, and opening his hand again to reveal a distinct lack of cigarette. The package also disappeared in a puff of smoke.

“Cool,” said Heiji appreciatively, watching a couple of bits of confetti fall to the floor. “‘course, it woulda been more impressive if ya hadn’t been standin’ right next to a bin.” Shinichi nodded in agreement with a grin.

“Did Toichi-kun never tell you not to perform in front of detectives?” Yuusaku asked.

Kaito sighed. “Actually, yeah,” he said. “He said they have an annoying tendency to blow away the smoke and break the mirrors. But I figure, hey, if I can pull _that_ off...”

“Good luck with that,” Hakuba snorted. “No hand will ever be faster than a detective’s eye.”

“No hand’s faster than _any_ eye, period,” Kaito corrected him. “Speed of light and all that. The hand just has to be _smarter_.”

“That’s why Kid’s such a successful thief,” Shinichi said thoughtfully. “He uses all of the magician’s skills—how to deceive, how to control what the crowd thinks. He knows there’s no need to sneak around in the shadows when everyone’s looking the other way.”

“Good thought, that,” Heiji said, unlocking the restaurant doors. “I guess that’s why Nakamori-keibu brought you, huh, Kuroba?”

“Some people say you need to think in corkscrews to be a magician,” Kaito said, “But I disagree. You need to think straighter than anyone else. It’s foolish to perform a trick by doing the last thing anyone would expect—do what no-one expects _at all_.”

“For once, I agree,” Hakuba said, glaring at Kaito again. “That’s how we’ve never caught Kid—he’s hiding in plain sight, where we’ll never look.”


	11. Cops and Robbers

“All the cops are in place in the royal wing,” Heiji said, ticking off notes on his fingers. “That way, Kid shouldn’t be able ta get near the elevator ta the basement, never mind the ruby ...”

“Did you check all of the guards?” Kaito asked, poking at his own cheek.

“I shouldn’t think it necessary,” Hakuba muttered. His quiet, pointed comments were growing increasingly frequent as the night wore on, and Shinichi could easily guess what they meant. However, neither he nor Hattori was inclined to give much weight to them. Hakuba was obviously jealous about Kaito’s friendship with Nakamori-keibu and closeness to Aoko, which leant a slightly personal edge to his suspicion of Kaito, and despite his cool demeanour, Hakuba was prone to letting his pride get the better of them. Still, it would explain Shinichi’s constant, nagging sense of déjà vu, and the guy _was_ a magician, so Shinichi had taken to keeping an eye on him. Kaito _had_ made a lot of useful anti-Kid suggestions, but on the other hand, if he _was_ Kid, he was in a prime position to control how they’d all think about Kid, as well as getting a good look at the security arrangements. Besides, it also got him past the face-tests—he didn’t need a mask when he could waltz in as himself.

 _No evidence, no deduction,_ he thought grumpily as they headed for the control room. It was just past midnight, and he was starting to feel the greater demand for sleep that his eight-year-old body was placing on him. Why did kids need to sleep so much? The “dinner” of museum gift-shop bento wasn’t really helping, either. Ran and the others never did make it through the crowds of rabid Kid fans, and even if they did there was no way they’d get in the museum now, past midnight. Kid hadn’t shown yet, either, but then again, he had over eight hours until the sun rose, so maybe he was just waiting for them all to fall asleep. _Sounds like just the sort of devious plan he’d come up with..._

They entered the quiet control room. About a dozen officers were watching what had to be hundreds of security cameras. There was a very strong smell of coffee, which Shinichi drank in, knowing that the cops wouldn’t let a kid have any of the hot beverage, particularly at the almost pure-caffeine mix known as “cop-strength”—which was unfortunately just how he liked it.

Heiji looked around in confusion. “Oi,” he said, waving to the nearest officer, “What happened ta Oyaji an’ Nakamori-keibu? I thought they were gonna be here.”

“They went ta Osaka Castle,” she said. “They figured the line ‘fit for a king’ meant he’ll come from there. I think Mori-sensei went with them.”

“Makes sense,” Kaito said thoughtfully. “But doesn’t that mean only the curator can get into the vault now?”

“Yes, but we’re not going into it until dawn,” the curator explained. “And I’m definitely staying here, so it’ll be noticeable if Kid tries to sneak in as me...”

“Good call,” Kaito said, wandering along to look over the security cams. Then he suddenly swivelled around. “I hate cheap gift-shop bento,” he declared. “Where’s the can?”

“It’s down a floor,” Hakuba said. “I think I’ll show you the way...”

“Can you say stalker?” Kaito said, leaving the room with the blond teen Tantei.

“Well, I can’t see how he’s gonna get in th’ vault, but that damned thief always uses _some_ trick...” Heiji sighed. “Whaddya think, Kudo? Either of ya?” Shinichi glared at him, but nobody else seemed to have noticed the comment

“Hmmm... well, I’d say that the vault’s impregnable as long as those defences are active,” Yuusaku said. “But—”

_Click_

In an instant, they were plunged into blackness.

“Blackout!” Shinichi said, fumbling for the light switch on his watch.

 “Cool it, we got a backup generator, remember?” Heiji said. “Any second now...”

“Um... actually, it should have kicked in already,” the curator said nervously. “We set it up so that it activates the second there’s a cutoff from main power... um, it’s still not up...”

“What happens to the defences if the power goes down?” Shinichi asked. “They’re electric. They won’t work now, will they?”

“Damn!” Heiji yelled. “An’ the doors’ll come open... they’re held closed by electro-magnetism so’s they can’t be forced, but if there’s a power loss, they spring open an’ won’t close, so nobody gets stuck inside... _damn_!”

Yuusaku was already running for the door. Heiji and Shinichi followed.

 _Nakamori-keibu, Hattori-keibu and Occhan are at Osaka Castle,_ he thought, _And Hakuba and Kaito... shouldn’t be too far... ah!_

“Sleeping gas!” Yuusaku said, yanking Heiji and Shinichi back before they ran into the royal wing and a cloud of purple smoke.

“The royal wing,” Heiji said, slightly muffled as he covered his mouth with a handkerchief. “Fit for a king. Dammit.”

The smoke was already mostly dissipated, though, and they could make out the snoozing forms of a dozen police officers, although on closer inspection, two of them appeared to be Hakuba and Kaito.

“It’s been about four minutes since the power went off,” Heiji muttered. “Runnin’, he could be in and outta there by now... It’s not that far if ya know the route.”

“And I think he did,” Shinichi said, kneeling next to Hakuba and the other limp form. On _much_ closer inspection, it was a dummy. A _really good_ dummy, with a fake pulse and everything, but a dummy. The real Kaito was elsewhere. For that matter, so was Yuusaku.

“Hey... where’d yer Oyaji go?” Heiji asked, looking around.

“He must’ve gotten an idea of where Kid was and gone after him,” Shinichi said, standing up and looking around. “Damn... he could’ve said something...”

“Like father, like son,” Heiji muttered.

“Shut up. Which way to the roof?”

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Kaito was panting heavily, but he didn’t have time to stop and catch his breath and, anyway, the cold December air was cooling him down fast. Jii had left the door to the roof unlocked, Kami bless him, and hidden behind one of the statues was the life-size dummy that had done some aerial acrobatics for the entertainment of the crowd a couple of minutes before. He checked his watch. He still had five minutes minimum before the sleeping gas wore off, and he needed to switch places with the dummy before that.

He primed the smoke bombs hidden within the flying dummy and let it loose. Then he held the ruby up to the light of the half-moon.

It was still clear red. It was also clearly not a doublet. No dice.

“Don’t move, Kid.”

He froze up, but out of the corner of his eye he could see him, a blacker shape among the darkness, mouth sneering, gun raised. A small smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

_Fifty-nine, fifty-eight..._

“This isn’t what you’re looking for, you know,” he said calmly, not lowering the jewel. “Snake-kun.”

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Shinichi caught up to his father at the top of the stairs. Yuusaku was fumbling with the fire door to the roof.

“Did Kid lock it behind him?” Shinichi asked.

Yuusaku shook his head. “Why would he? This is his route back,” he pointed out. “No, this was someone else’s doing.”

Pressing his ear to the door, Shinichi could hear a faint murmur of voices, but he couldn’t make out the words. However, there were definitely _two_ voices. He looked down at the door. It was a fairly old one, with a padlock and a small gap underneath.

The bug _just_ squeezed through. Praying that neither Kid nor—whoever—would notice the tiny object in the darkness, he pressed in the earphone as Yuusaku apprised Hattori of the situation.

“There’s gotta be a key ta this thing on here somewhere...” Hattori muttered, fiddling with the keyring.

“ _... hoping it would be the Pandora. Then I could kill two birds with one stone. Still, at least one of them’s not out of my sights yet..._ ”

“ _Going to kill me again, Snake-kun? Or is it Snakebite? I feel insulted. You never even told me your full name…._ ” came Kid’s voice. Shinichi felt his breath stop.

_Snakebite? As in..._

“ _What will it matter when I kill_ another _of you?_ ”

“Found it!” Hattori said, jamming the key into the lock. He, Yuusaku and Shinichi all burst through.

At the far edge of the roof, still recognizable under the black cloak concealing his costume, was the Kaitou Kid. Closer to them was a man who swung around with his gun raised. Black hat, black coat—even his handlebar moustache was black. Shinichi saw a flash as the Kid shoved the ruby into his suit. Yuusaku grabbed the man’s arm, forcing the gun to the ground before he could shoot them, a bullet cracking into the concrete. Hattori tried to dodge around the two to reach Kid, but paused to help Yuusaku as the man struggled against them. Shinichi popped out a football, ready to stop Kid before he could run and find out what the hell was going on.

Kid was holding up three fingers. He lowered one as the ball popped out. As Shinichi clicked his shoes to life and the man pulled away from Hattori and Yuusaku, he lowered another. As Shinichi drew his foot back and the man raised his gun again, Kid lowered the last one.

There was a huge flash that obscured everything. The ball collapsed and deflated, unkicked, as Shinichi covered his eyes. He sensed someone move past him. By the time he opened his eyes, Kid was gone, and the man was also disappearing across the roof. As Shinichi watched, one of the police— _apparently_ police, anyway—helicopters swooped past and the man leapt in.

That was what made him certain. A man in black. A codename after an alcoholic drink. Associates who had infiltrated the police.

Kid was also up against the Black Organization.

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Kaito was changed in fifteen seconds. Thanks to Snake, he was rapidly running out of time. Running through the mostly deserted halls of the museum, he made a quick detour to drop off the bag containing his costume and the ruby. Even as he was leaving the room, he saw Jii scurry past and pick up the bag, hiding his own police cap as he did so.

Some of the guards were already beginning to stir, but thankfully, Hakuba, who’d been at the dead centre of the sleeping gas-bomb, was still snoozing peacefully. Within seconds, the dummy was deflated and in Kaito’s pocket, and he’d slumped down next to Hakuba. Not a moment too soon, either. He’d barely composed his Poker Face into “sleeping” when he heard the patter of three sets of running feet, one considerably quicker and lighter than the other two.

 _Snake must have legged it,_ he thought bitterly. _Damn... I was hoping he’d get arrested..._

He sensed someone moving closer to him, but kept his Poker Face still. Someone was poking him all over— _If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a patdown, and I don’t think I know better_ —but he was careful not to react… at first, anyway. After a few, he winced slightly, and a few more and he started to stir. Not reacting forever would suggest either a coma or acting, and he _really_ couldn’t afford to give Tantei-kun and his friends any _more_ suspicions...

“Whuh...?” he muttered, letting his eyes slowly flicker open. “Whuzzup?”

He caught Edogawa Conan’s piercing glare. He’d seen it before, as Kid—a little _too_ piercing, as if the boy could see right through him, too damn sharp for a kid—and had to exercise a little more control than usual on his Poker Face to deflect it. A long moment later, the kid stood up and called over to someone, “Hey, Kaito-niichan’s up. How’s Saguru-niichan?”

“Comin’ around,” Hattori called back. “Oi, Hakuba, you alive?”

“What happened?” Hakuba said, jerking upright. “Sleeping gas! Damn that—”

“Sleeping gas?” Kaito asked, sounding deeply confused. Then he rearranged his face into disappointment. “Hey, don’t tell me we _missed_ it!”

“Yeah you did, Ba-Kai-to.”

“Ran-neechan, Kazuha-neechan, Aoko-neechan, Yukiko-oba—ahh, neechan?” Conan said brightly, stuttering on the last word as Kudo Yukiko glared formidably at the boy. Kaito could only remember meeting the woman once, but that evil glare was hard to forget. “When did you get here?”

“The fans cleared out when Kid flew away an’ blew up,” Kazuha said, crossing her arms. “So we came ta read you guys the riot act.”

“You let him get _away_! _All_ of you!” Aoko raged. “How _could_ you?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Kaito saw Hakuba glaring at him. The blond Meitantei opened his mouth, but Yuusaku cut in.

“When Kid cut the power, the ruby’s defences went offline,” he explained. “I’m presuming you saw him fly in beforehand?”

“Yeah,” Ran said, “he had to do some pretty nifty aerobatics to get past the helicopters, but he made it. About five minutes later, he flew off of the roof and exploded about a minute after that. There was this bright flash, so I couldn’t see well, but by the time the light had died down there was just confetti left.”

Conan, Heiji and Yuusaku all exchanged glances, Kaito felt his insides flip over. “So Kid flew in, cut the power, got past the inactive defences and knocked out the guards, Hakuba-kun and Kuroba-kun with sleeping gas—”

“Huh?” Hakuba said in shock. “Kuroba and I were—?”

“We passed this room on our way to the roof,” Yuusaku said deliberately, “and you were both sleeping peacefully at that time.” Out of the corner of his eye, Kaito saw Conan watching Yuusaku with a contemplative frown on his face. Hattori looked confused but was remaining silent. “We followed Kid up to the roof and were just in time to see him leave.  There are a couple of points that I need to discuss with Nakamori-kun and Hattori-kun, but I’m afraid that, overall, this heist was pretty cut-and-dried.”

“Yeah, pretty much Occam’s Razor,” Hattori sighed. “Well, I guess there’s nothin’ ta do now but get some sleep an’ wait for Kid ta return the damn thing... He generally does, right?”

“Well, yes,” Hakuba said, still looking angry but confused. “He hasn’t kept anything yet...”

“Then let’s go sleep,” Yukiko said with a yawn. “Yuu-chan, let’s go back to the hotel. Ran-chan, when are you and Conan-kun going back to Tokyo?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Ran said, turning to head for the exit as she chatted to the older woman. “Are you coming too?”

“Yes, we’re staying in Japan for a while...”

“Arrrgh!” Aoko fumed. “Well, we might as well get some sleep before Otou-san wakes us up to drag us back to Tokyo and look for Kid...”

“Yeah, well, with any luck, he won’t find out for a while,” Kaito suggested, strolling after Ran and Yukiko. Yuusaku was leaning over and Heiji crouching down to Conan’s level, the three of them deep in quiet discussion. The sight was worrying. The cops were wandering off, debating the eternal conundrum of sleep or more coffee and arguing about who would take on the life-threatening task of tracking down Nakamori-keibu and informing him that Kid had gotten away. Again.

Hakuba grabbed Kaito’s arm and pulled him over to hiss in his ear. “Someday, somehow,” the detective growled, “I will find the proof I need, and then you’ll rot in jail forever.”

“Good luck with that,” Kaito said, jerking away from him and jogging away. He glanced back slightly, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hakuba falling back to talk to Hattori and Yuusaku, Conan trotting alongside the older detectives. Kaito couldn’t help frowning a little.

 _Yeah, what the hell?_ he thought, facing forward again. Yuusaku, Hattori and Conan must have seen Snake, he knew. But they hadn’t mentioned that, nor what they surely _must_ have realized—both the Kid that flew away and the Kaito that had been snoozing in the royal wing were dummies. _I’ve got a bad feeling about this..._

As it happened, their route out took them through the room displaying stuffed animals. Including, in pride of place, a lion—king of the animal world—which now had the additional adornment of a large ruby in its mouth.

“Hyakuju no o,” Yuusaku commented. “King of a hundred beasts.”

“Oh, you’ve _gotta_ be kidding me,” Hattori complained. Conan didn’t say anything, but when Kaito glanced back, he saw the boy slowly and rhythmatically banging his head off of a small display case full of stuffed ravens.


	12. Ambiguity

“Alright, what the hell?” Heiji asked grumpily. They were all still a little sleepy, but Shinichi, Heiji and Yuusaku had met up just in front of Heiji’s house before anyone else had woken up to talk things over. Heiji was as blunt as ever. “It ain’t like we got any hard proof, since he left the damn ruby behind, but that Kuroba dude’s obviously Kid, right?”

“Oh, yes,” Yuusaku said. “He was in an unparalleled position to observe the security arrangements, fix the generators, and control our thoughts about how Kid would approach. Besides, I think we all noticed the two dummies.”

“So why didn’t ya say anythin’?” Heiji asked hotly. “Put ‘im on the spot, he mighta confessed—”

“I doubt it,” Shinichi said, shaking his head. “The Kaitou Kid wouldn’t crack _that_ easily, especially not if he’s been able to keep Nakamori-keibu and his daughter in the dark this long.”

“Yes... I think he’d have to be as good an actor as you to fool Aoko-san,” Yuusaku chuckled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shinichi asked, flushing.

“Anyway, if he’ anything like his father, he _will_ be a brilliant actor,” Yuusaku continued, ignoring his son. “Toichi-kun had an unparalleled Poker Face, you know. There’s a reason Yukiko and Sharon Vineyard went to him for acting tuition.”

“That’s right...” Shinichi suddenly realized. “Kuroba Toichi taught role-play and disguise to Kaa-san and Sharon Vineyard... in other words, Vermouth, who can change her face, voice and manner as perfectly as Kid.” He smacked himself in the forehead. “Duh.”

“So this Kuroba Toichi dude was Kid before?” Heiji said thoughtfully. “Actually, yeah, that makes sense. Kuroba _Kaito_ ’s way too young ta’ve been nickin’ stuff twenty years ago. He wasn’t even _born_ then. Takin’ after his oyaji, then?”

“ _Avenging,_ more like,” Shinichi said. “Right, Tou-san?”

“I’d assume so,” Yuusaku said darkly. “Even _I_ never found any evidence that Toichi-kun’s death was anything but an accident, but form both you and Toichi-kun have told me about these people...”

“Hold on a mo,” Heiji cut in. “That guy last night—the one with the gun—was one’ve _them_?”

“Dressed entirely in black, Codenamed Snakebite,” Shinichi said, counting on his fingers, “Escaped in a police helicopter, which suggests that his people have either infiltrated the police or were capable of hijacking a police helicopter, and given the lack of hijacking reports, I’m going for the former... It has to be, Hattori. You knew, didn’t you?” he said, addressing the question to his father.

“Of course I eventually found out about Toichi-kun’s night job, yes,” Yuusaku said frankly, “and when I heard that Kid had returned, I had my suspicions about who it was... pretty much confirmed last night by Kaito-kun. I didn’t turn him in because if I did, that would reveal the identity of the Kaitou Kid to the world... essentially sentencing him and his family to death.”

“Did you know it was the Organization, then?” Shinichi asked.

Yuusaku shook his head. “Toichi-kun had told me the codename of the man who had approached him,” he admitted with a sigh, “but that was ten years ago.... I’d forgotten entirely about him, and so didn’t make the connection, until tonight. Toichi-kun always referred to them as Ravens, or the Shadow Syndicate...”

“You confronted him, then,” Heiji said, speaking as detectives often did not in questions but in statements.

“Well, he was my friend,” Yuusaku said, “So I did want to face him personally before I turned him in. That’s when I found out about _them_... so we struck a deal.”

“To deal with the Organization?” Shinichi said incredulously.

“I said that if I couldn’t convince him to give it up, and he was going to continue to stick his neck out as bait for those Ravens, someone might as well see to it that the police got there in time to arrest them,” Yuusaku sighed. “We had no idea that it consisted of more than Snakebite’s little faction. And they didn’t seem to know who he really was.”

“But they found out,” Heiji growled. “I’m layin’ good odds on that Vermouth chick...”

“Yes, ever since Shinichi told us about her, I’ve been certain of it,” Yuusaku agreed. “I’m sure she would have made the connection. Yukiko doesn’t know. She’s never known who Toichi-kun was. I thought it better to keep it a secret at first, and didn’t have the heart to tell her after his death. His wife knew, too—Chikage-san—but I didn’t know that Kaito-kun had ever found out.”

“That explains the timing of Kid’s appearances and disappearances,” Shinichi said thoughtfully, “As well as his youth and overly showy thefts—the aim isn’t the jewels, it’s drawing out the Organization, who must _know_ that they killed the Kaitou Kid a decade ago. But why did he get involved with them in the first place? And why did they let his family live?”

“Toichi-kun said that they approached him to ask him to steal something for them,” Yuusaku said gravely. “Pandora. What it is, precisely, I’ve never known. As for Chikage-san and Kaito-kun, all I can think of is that Sharon protected them, but I can’t think why...”

“Did he ever tell ya why he started thievin’?” Heiji asked. “I mean, what the hell was he _doin’_?”

To Shinichi’s surprise, his father smiled. “Toichi-kun always had a little bit of bedevilment in him,” he chuckled. “He never did any damage himself, and _never_ hurt anybody—he just liked the chance to put on the kind of show that the whole world would talk about. Besides, I think he got a bit of a thrill out of messing with the police in a completely non-damaging way. He never did have much control over his inner child… he once said he became a performer so he wouldn’t have to.”

“Well, unfortunately, Kuroba left with Nakamori-keibu an hour ago,” Heiji pointed out, “so he’s kinda outta our grasp.”

“I don’t know what Kaito-kun’s planning,” Yuusaku said with a frown, “but if he’s really facing the Black Organization...”

“I can personally attest that even Kid can’t take them alone,” Shinichi said darkly. “I’m not letting up on him, but frankly, I’d rather spend the brain power that I use worrying about him on dealing with the Organization.  I wonder if he feels the same.”

“Well, he lives in Tokyo, right?” Heiji yawned. “I guess ya can probably find ‘im sooner or later. Me, I’m gonna check out who was in chopper two last night. I ain’t standin’ fer these bastards bein’ in the Osaka Police.”

“Be careful, Hattori,” Shinichi cautioned. “These people are dangerous. If they suspect you of being even the slightest bit of trouble, you join the hitlist. Watch who you tell about this.”

“Well, I’m workin’ on the assumption that Oyaji ain’t a murderin’ criminal bastard, but fer the most part I’m keepin’ it on the quiet,” Heiji said. “They let me inta everythin’ at HQ anyways. I’ll contact ya with anythin’ I find...”

“Tou-san, so you know Kuroba Toichi’s address?” Shinichi asked as they turned to head back inside.

Yuusaku scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I think Yukiko might still have his address...” he said, “but it’ll be ten years old... I don’t know if Chikage-san and Kaito-kun still live there. We might as well check, however.”

“I’m sure we can track him down,” Shinichi said. “The main problem is that he’s liable to freak if _I_ turn up at his house...”

“Well, it’s been a long time since Yukiko and I visited Chikage-san,” Yuusaku said. “Maybe it’s time to catch up, since we’re in Japan again.”

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 _Lucky escape this time,_ Kaito thought with a sigh, leaning against the train window. _And not just from the heist_...

Thanks to Kudo, Tantei-kun and Hattori apparently keeping mum, he’d gotten away, but that didn’t relieve him—far from it. If those three— _especially_ Tantei-kun—weren’t exposing him yet, then they had some other plan. Granted, it _could_ simply have been because there was no hard evidence—he was fairly certain that Tantei-kun hadn’t just been poking him to wake him up—but he doubted it. If that was it, they probably would have levelled with Hakuba, but the blond git had been sulking all morning after having been brushed off by Kudo Yuusaku. Aoko and Nakamori were also angry, but in their case it was to do with neither of them having been around and Kid getting away as a result. All told, Kaito was pretty glad that they’d had to take an early morning train; it meant they spent most of the ride sleeping, and it got him away from the three Tantei.

 _But Kudo-san said he and his wife were friends of my parents,_ he realized. _So they might have known our address back then... it’s not like we’ve moved since... damn, then they might find me. More importantly, they might find that_ room... _and it’s not just them I have to worry about..._

As he and Jii had worried, Snake had been there, looking to check out the ruby. Kaito idly wondered how much of their conversation the detectives had heard. His sharp night vision had easily picked out the little bug that had rolled under the small gap at the bottom of the door. Could that be something to do with why they weren’t turning him in? _How much did they hear... and understand?_

“... _when I kill_ another _of you?_ ”

Poker Face cracked for a brief second as he yelped. The other three stared at him, Aoko and her father a little sleepily, Hakuba suspiciously. Kaito shook his head hurriedly.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said hastily. “I kinda dozed off... weird dream... never mind.”

“You get weird dreams if you sleep at weird times,” Aoko reprimanded him, breaking the stern effect by yawning. “I’m gonna get some coffee. You want to come with? I think you need caffeine.”

“Sounds good,” Kaito agreed, hoping to escape Hakuba’s laser stare for a short while. At least he’d be free of it when he got home—if the freak didn’t stalk him there again... “You two want anything?”

“Fond out how much caffeine they’ll put in one cup,” Nakamori asked, stifling a yawn. Hakuba just shook his head.

As Kaito followed Aoko down the train, however, he wasn’t even the slightest bit sleepy. He was suddenly very, very afraid.

 _He knows I’m not Tou-san_ , he thought. _He knows I’m someone else. If... if he knows_ who _that someone else_ is...

He looked up at Aoko as she chattered aimlessly, not really listening.

_If..._

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“You guys gotta come back again soon,” Kazuha insisted. “I mean, when was the last time ya came for somethin’ _not_ work?”

“Yeah...” Ran said, a little listlessly. She’d had the Nightmare last night. It wasn’t scary, or shocking, or anything; all it was was Shinichi, running away from her, always _just_ beyond her reach, and with every step he took, he faded a little more out of her sight, until it seemed that he would vanish forever... “That sounds good.”

Kazuha tipped her head to the side as she regarded the other girl critically. They were pretty much on their own, as Heiji and Conan had wandered down the other end of the platform to talk about the heist with Yuusaku, Kogoro was sleeping in a plastic chair, and Yukiko had disappeared into the ladies’ room. Ran felt herself flush under Kazuha’s scrutiny. “What?” she hissed.

“It’s Kudo-kun, isn’t it?” Kazuha said bluntly. “Nothin’ else makes you so depressed. I mean, ya were hopin’ he’d turn up, weren’t ya? But even his folks can’t really tell ya where he is, so yer feelin’ worried and lonely again.” Ran flinched. “Bullseye.”

“I just never know when he’s going to turn up... _if_ he’s going to turn up...” Ran admitted. She felt a little more comfortable talking to Kazuha about this than she was talking to Sonoko; Sonoko, at least, knew where she stood with Makoto, and generally knew where he was and what he was up to, even if he was at a tournament in another country. Kazuha could understand how frustrating ambiguity could be, as well as how much trouble kokosei-tantei could get themselves into. “I don’t really know what he’s doing, or if he’s safe... you know?”

“Tell me about it,” Kazuha said huffily, glancing at Heiji. “Sometimes he just _vanishes_ , whenever he gets wind of a case, for hours on end... then he turns up like ‘what where ya worryin’ for, a-hou?’ I dunno what it is with detectives... ya’d think, since they spend so much time workin’ on the truth, they’d be _less_ secretive than other people, but _no_...”

“It’s not quite secrecy,” Ran said. “I mean... I guess I just don’t know where I stand with him.”

“Ya think it’d be easier ta wait on ‘im if ya knew for certain that he really _wanted_ to be back with ya?” Kazuha asked with her usual blunt precision. Ran could feel herself going crimson enough to draw questioning looks from Heiji and Conan. “I mean, c’mon. It’s more’n a little obvious how _you_ feel about _him_...”

“All right,” Ran admitted hotly. “I just... I mean, if he hasn’t said _anything_ , maybe he doesn’t think of me as more than a best friend... but sometimes, he just says or does little things... like he messaged me the other day and said that he ‘kinda missed’ me... but then, what does that even _mean_?”

“Guys are an eternal enigma,” Kazuha stated grumpily, “But you guys’ve been in this li’l quasi-romance for, like, two years, right? Since just after he started on that case, an’ ya realized for the first time how important he was to yer life when he _wasn’t_ in it?”

“Is Hattori-kun secretly getting his deductions from you?” Ran hissed as the guys once more glanced in their direction.

“Ran-chan, it’s obvious to _any_ woman,” Yukiko said brightly from just over her shoulder. Ran yelped in surprise as Yukiko walked past her and then turned to face her, shoulder-to-shoulder with Kazuha. “Really, for those of us, who’ve known you long enough, I think it’s obvious that Shin-chan’s more than a friend to you... and I’m certain that you’re more precious to Shin-chan than anything else.”

Ran deflated. Yukiko’s words made her hopeful, but she wasn’t sure that she wanted that hope—so many times, such hope had lifted her up in time to just fall further... “But how can I _know_?” she whispered helplessly.

“Shin-chan’s good at figuring other people out, but he’s _hopeless_ when it comes to his _own_ feelings,” Yukiko sighed. “He’s rather irritatingly like his father that way. If you’re certain of how _you_ feel... maybe you ought to make the first move.”

“If he was textin’ ya sayin’ he missed ya,” Kazuha theorized, “Maybe he’ll show up again soon. When that happens, Ran-chan, it’s do or die time. Put ‘im on the spot and find out for certain.”

“Don’t think about it,” Yukiko insisted. “Just do it. The more you think about it, the more likely you are to over-think it, and then you’ll never find out. Just make it simple.”

“Maybe ya should just _kiss_ ‘im,” Kazuha giggled. The PA blared to life, obscuring Ran’s squeak and brief period of speechlessness as it announced the imminent arrival of the next train back to Tokyo. Yuusaku shook Kogoro on the shoulder, but he didn’t awake until Conan climbed up onto an adjacent chair and kicked the man in the arm. Hattori yanked the boy just out of the way of a quality thumping.

“Oh, we’d better go!” Yukiko gasped, straightening her purse strap and stooping to pick up her travel bag. “Ran-chan, do you have all of your things?”

“Um... oh, yes,” Ran said, fighting to cool her cheeks as she tugged the straps on her backpack. “Um, goodbye for now, then, Kazuha-chan...”

“Yes, it was nice meeting you, Kazuha-chan,” Yukiko said with a grin. “Nice seeing you again, Hattori-kun.”

“Yeah... nice ta see ya, Kudo-han,” Heiji said, waving them off as they got on the train. “Look after yerself, squirt.”

“See you, Heiji-niichan!” Conan said brightly. “You too, Kazuha-neechan!”

Kazuha gave Ran a quick hug goodbye as she got on the train. As she did so, she whispered in Ran’s ear, “Just go for it. I mean, what have ya got to lose?”

Ran practically fled onto the train. As they pulled away from the station, she couldn’t help opening her phone and reading the message again.

“ _That, and I’ve kinda missed you._ ”

 _I’ve missed you too, Shinichi,_ she thought. _So, so much..._

“ _Just go for it. I mean, what have ya got to lose?_ ”

 _What have I got to lose?_ she thought, smiling sadly at the phone. _Only Shinichi... only... everything..._


	13. Revelations

“Welcome back, Shinichi!” Agasa said brightly as Shinichi entered the lab. “How did it go?”

“Well, Kid didn’t get away with the jewel, so I suppose it counts as a success,” Yuusaku said, following his son in. “It’s been a long time, Hakase.”

“Yuusaku-kun!” Agasa said in surprise. “Well, it has been a long time. How are you? Are you staying in Japan for long? What about Yukiko-kun?”

“She’s here too, just settling in,” Yuusaku said, reading some of the blueprints on the professor’s desk upside-down. “Since we are planning to stay for a while to... look into a few things. Oh, that reminds me...”

“Oh, yeah!” Shinichi suddenly said, smacking himself on the forehead. “Hakase, have you seen Haibara and Okiya? Separate enquiries.”

“Ai-kun’s down in her lab,” Agasa said thoughtfully. “I think Okiya-san’s around here somewhere. he wanted to borrow a couple of books for his thesis...”

“I found them,” Okiya said, coming through the door on the opposite side of the room with two very thick books under his arm and his nose buried in a third. “Thank you very much, Hakase. Hmm?” He seemed to first notice Conan and Yuusaku. “Ah, it’s Conan-kun. I saw the Kid heist on the news. They didn’t seem to have realized that the one that exploded was a dummy. He must have escaped into the museum.”

“Yeah, and he escaped right back out again,” Shinichi replied, pitching his voice up an octave. “Okiya-san, this is Kudo Yuusaku-ojisan. He’s Shinichi-niichan’s Otou-san.”

“Kudo Yuusaku?” Okiya said, arching an eyebrow. “The creator of the Night Baron? I’m honoured.”

“Ojisan, this is Okiya Subaru-san,” Shinichi explained as Okiya and Yuusaku shook hands. “He’s a friend of Shinichi-niichan’s, and since his apartment block burned down, Shinichi-niichan was letting him stay at his house until it’s rebuilt... I forgot to tell you, sorry.”

“Ah, I see,” Yuusaku said with a smile. “I think he mentioned something about that... I was wondering why the house wasn’t drowning in dust.” He nodded to Okiya. “Nice to meet you, Okiya-san. Yukiko and I will be staying in Japan for a while, but you’re welcome to stay.”

“That would be wonderful,” Okiya said, bowing his head slightly. “Thank you very much.”

“Hey, I’m gonna go talk to Haibara-san, all right?” Shinichi said, heading for the lab.

“Don’t take too long,” Yuusaku called after him. “Ran-kun wants you back home before it gets dark, remember.”

“I’m going back to my parents’ over Christmas and New Years’, so I’m sure I won’t be troubling you for long,” Okiya was saying.

“Oh, it’s not trouble,” Yuusaku replied. “We’re returning to America shortly after Sanga-Nichi anyway...”

Their voices faded as Shinichi descended to Ai’s private lab, dedicated solely to APTX 4869 research. Recently, she’d taken to attempting to recreate the drug, and this made her so reluctant to leave her lab that the professor had installed a minifridge and a microwave down there, in addition to the coffee machine and couchbed that Ai used whenever intensive research led to her basically living in the lab. Shinichi leaned up for the doorknob—feeling annoyed that it was a _good_ thing that he only had to lean in comparison to jumping—and went in.

“Welcome back, Kudo-kun,” she said, not looking away from her computer monitor. There were two Baigar bottles under the desk, as well as a number of similar liquors.

 _In normal people that would look like a drinking problem,_ he carefully refrained from saying. Instead, he said, “how’s the research going? Any progress?”

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “Depending on whether my calculations are right or not, I’m either onto something important or something completely irrelevant. Speaking of which...” she hopped down from her computer chair and went over to a drawer, rummaging in it. “There’s only really one way to find out, I guess. We need to find a time to test-run this.”

“You’ve come up with a new antidote!” Shinichi said, perking up. “So what’s this ‘something important’?”

“Well, if my calculations are right, it _should_ last longer,” Ai said, pulling out a capsule, scrutinizing it, then putting it back and rummaging again. “Anywhere from thirty-six to seventy-two hours. If I’m wrong, it’ll only be about twelve. If we’re going to test-run it, we need a flawless cover plan for ‘Conan-kun’ while we’re at it. After all, you’ll be wanting to spend the whole time with her, won’t you?”

“Well... yeah, of course,” Shinichi said, watching excitedly as she rummaged through the many, many, _many_ pills that she seemed to have created or acquired. “If it’s anywhere up to three days, the normal ‘sleeping over at Agasa-hakase’s’ probably won’t work...” he grew quiet, contemplative. The faint murmur of his father and Okiya’s voices drifted down to them, now joined by his mother’s, who had evidently come over to say hello to the professor and was now being introduced to Okiya. He snapped his fingers. “Kaa-san and Tou-san are going to be here until after New Year’s,” he explained. “And Okiya’s away until after Sanga-Nichi... so maybe...” he realized that, in his excitement, his voice had shot up, and the voices upstairs had stopped, probably listening to him. He lowered his voice to quickly whisper the plan to Ai.

Ai nodded slowly. “That could work, unless you find some way to screw it up as usual,” she said boredly, still trying to locate the correct canister. She had evidently been busy. “Damn...  Listen, come back tomorrow with them for a strategy meeting, all right? Let’s have just _one_ trial that goes off without a problem. I may have found the stupid thing by then.”

“All right,” Shinichi said, but he didn’t get up to leave. “One more thing, Haibara. Have you heard of someone called Snakebite?”

Ai stiffened. The reaction wasn’t as violent as her reaction to Vermouth’s name, but it was unmistakeable.

“So who is he?” Shinichi asked. “More importantly, why’s he set on Kid’s life? I mean, the guy _is_ annoying, but I never imagined that he’d cross paths with the _Black Organization_...”

“I don’t really... _know_ Snakebite,” Ai said guardedly. “He was assigned to the same project as me, but a different division. That’s all.”

“So you don’t know what the Pandora is?” Shinichi asked.

The reaction was even more violent than when he’d first brought up Vermouth’s name. She whipped around to stare at him, eyes wide, jaw bouncing off the floor. She didn’t appear to be breathing.

“We saw Snakebite in Osaka, going after Kid,” Shinichi explained, watching her twitch. “He said something like ‘it’s not the Pandora’. I’m not sure _what’s_ not ‘The Pandora’, although at a running guess I’ll say the ruby. But from the strength of your reaction, I’d say whatever it is is important. So what _is_ Pandora, aside from an excessively nosy mythical woman?”

He didn’t think she was going to answer him. She was silent for the longest time, and her face did not regain any colour. Finally, with fearful glances at the closed door and ceiling, she whispered, “The project. The one where I was making APTX 4869 in one division and Kid was getting in the way of another—well, sounds like he still is. It’s Project Pandora.”

“One half looking for a drug, another a jewel...” Shinichi murmured. “I’m afraid I don’t see much of a connection. What’s the aim of the project? I’m taking it that unleashing all of the evils of the world would be taking it too literally, especially since they’re pretty engaged in that anyway.”

“That’s the ultimate Pandora’s Box, Kudo,” Ai said quietly. “I can’t tell you. I _can’t_...”

For some reason, Shinichi’s temper suddenly spiked. Finding out that the Kaitou Kid—whose heists were normally the closest Shinichi got to having real fun, being a real mental workout with a lack of corpses usually assured—was mixed up in the Black Organization was a real blow to his comfort zone. His frustration hadn’t quite released yet, and while he normally didn’t blame Ai for his predicament—after Miyano Akemi’s sad death, he figured they were more or less square in inadvertently screwing up each others’ lives—suddenly he was _furious_ at her, for landing him in this mess, for keeping him from Ran, for using him as a guinea pig but never, _never_ telling him the _truth_...

“Why not?” he said acidly. “What, is it going to put me in _more_ danger than I’m in right now? I mean, so far, I’m still alive when Gin tried to kill me, and he seems to be the kind of guy who’d hold a grudge about that. I’m hiding probably the only person he wants dead _more_ than me, in addition to being real pally with the FBI. If they found out about me now, I doubt I’d live long enough for them to find out exactly _what_ I know about the Organization, so I suppose that’s really the _least_ of my problems, isn’t it? So is it too much to ask that you tell me the truth, just for once? Or are mere lab rats not allowed to know the purpose of the experiments?”

Ai flinched. Shinichi paused, taking a deep breath, calming himself again. “Please, Haibara. Just level with me. I’m trying to save _both_ our hides here. Please.”

“It’s...” she glanced at the closed door again. Shinichi’s outburst had been pretty loud, and the voices from upstairs had stopped again, but there was no sound of anyone coming down the stairs. She sat down on the couchbed and Shinichi sat next to her, so she didn’t have to speak loudly.

“The Pandora is a jewel, yes,” she almost whispered. “It’s semi-mythical, really...  it’s a doublet. You know what that is, yes?”

“A jewel inside a larger jewel,” Shinichi replied. “Of course. Hmmm... That explains a lot about Kid’s heists. Large jewels... but you’d think he _wouldn’t_ go for clear ones... they’re pretty easy to tell when they’re a doublet...”

“Pandora is a special doublet,” Ai explained.”It’s.... this is going to start bizarre and just get worse, I have to warn you...”

“Haibara,” Shinichi said patiently—more patiently than he felt—“ever since _that_ day at Tropical Land, my threshold for bizarre has been very, very high. Out with it.”

“It’s the inner jewel that’s the real Pandora—the outer one’s just sort of... a protective shell,” she explained rapidly. “You can only see Pandora by holding the jewel up to the moonlight. It’ll glow blood red, they say.”

“Are you sure you’re not just feeding me _Sailor Moon_ storylines or something?” Shinichi said. Ai glared at him. “All right, I was warned. So what’s so special about this jewel beyond its strange nocturnal habits?”

“There’s a comet called Pandora as well,” Ai said. “You might have heard about it.”

“Pandora? Oh, yeah!” He said. “I read about it in the paper. Astronomers have predicted that it’s going to pass by the earth sometime next year, and they’re really excited about that because it only passes about every ten thousand years or so...”

“Exactly,” Ai said, “and supposedly, the jewel has an odd reaction to the comet. It... Cries, sort of.”

“Cries?” Shinichi asked. “What does it ‘cry’?”

“I told you that the Prototype Detective wasn’t supposed to be a poison, right?” Ai said, lowering her voice even more. Shinichi had to lean over to hear. He nodded.

“But you never told me what it _was_ meant to be,” he pointed out.

“Well, I’m telling you know,” she said. “It was meant to be an artificial reproduction of ‘Pandora’s Tears’, and it got closer than any of them expected.”

“You mean the shrinking?” Shinichi said, a little confused. “Pandora cries midget tears?”

“Technically, Kudo, we didn’t _shrink_ ,” Ai pointed out. “We got _younger_.”

Shinichi’s eyes widened. “Haibara... are you saying... that ‘Pandora’s Tears’... what Shiyaroku was meant to be... is...”

“The elixir of youth, Kudo,” Ai replied, “immortality.”

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“— _can you predict exactly when it’ll pass?_ ”

“ _I’m afraid we have nothing specific yet, but we’re sure it’ll happen within the first half of the year. As you can see from our projected path, you’ll want to keep your eyes glued to the skies from about—_ “

_Click_

_So, really, that’s my deadline, isn’t it?_ Kaito thought, leaving the blank TV screen behind as he wandered through to the study. _Once that’s out of the way... once they’ve lost their one-in-ten-thousand-year chance... I might just be able to finish them for good..._

He paused once in the study, staring up at the gently smiling face of Kuroba Toichi. _Well, they know I’m not you,_ he thought, smiling bitterly, _but I don’t know if they know I’m_ me _yet... I’m not giving up on them, but... if it’s going to put Kaa-san and Jii and everyone else I care about in danger... what would you do, Tou-san?_

He leaned up and pressed the hidden pressure panel, carefully walking to revolving door all the way around so that, now he was in the room, he was facing the proud smirk of the Kaitou Kid.

 _Heads and tails... opposite sides of the coin..._ he thought. _But in the end, it’s still the same coin, isn’t it?_ He dropped the bag that he’d just picked up from Jii on the desk and unzipped it, unpacking his outfit. _I’m not giving up... no matter what. Not now, not ever. I promise._

As he was hanging up the suit, his eye caught the rows of his father’s old heist folders. He’d never really gotten around to reading all of them, especially not the later ones—although, really, he should have read those first, as they were presumably the ones that dealt most with the Syndicate.

 _Well, don’t suppose I have anything better to do with today,_ he thought with a shrug, pulling out one dated from when he was about five. The heists were growing sparser by this point— Toichi had been about to give it up, having apparently decided that, with a wife and small son to support, it was really about time he stopped indulging his inner showboater. As Kaito flicked through the folder, though, there was a sudden sharp increase in heists, practically monthly, soon weekly—mainly around the full moon.

 _Here we go,_ he thought, trying to flick backwards to the point where the pattern changed, but there were no Syndicate notes in this folder—only plans and notes pertaining to the heists. He put it back, running his fingers over the folders as he looked for one likely to contain his father’s Syndicate notes. He paused on one labelled only with a familiar name.

 _Kudo Yuusaku_? he thought, remembering the ex-sort-of-not-really-Meitantei. _Tou-san was stalking him? Know your enemy, I suppose..._

There was a family picture just inside the front of the folder, showing Kudo Yuusaku and Yukiko—he looking visibly younger, her not actually looking that different—holding a small boy who was probably about six in the picture, presumably their son Shinichi. Kaito was looking over his father’s notes when something drew his eye back to the picture. Something about the picture was tugging at the back of his brain. After a long moment, he shook his head and returned to the notes.

 _They’re cousins, right?_ he figured. _Probably just a genetic coincidence... Hell, apparently even_ we _look alike, and we’re not even_ related _..._

Still, it was going to remain at the back of his mind; the startling physical similarities between the Meitantei Kudo Shinichi and the almost frighteningly keen-minded Edogawa Conan.

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_The crystal. The red sun. The falling coin._

_The light._

The dream again.

That same dream, every time she closed her eyes for—how long? That was an easy question. Too long, far, far too long. Yet she could feel it coming, pulling ever closer; one chance, one chance that, of missed, would not return for ten thousand long years. But if it wasn’t missed...

Then it would come, it would finally come, after so long. The peaceful sleep. The sleep of eternity...


	14. Plan A

“Honestly, Otou-san!” Ran chided as she ran for the phone. “It’s already eleven in the morning! _Wake up!_ ”

Kogoro just lifted his head muzzily off of his desk and stared at the ringing phone.

Ran sighed in annoyance as she picked it up. “Mori Detective Agency, how can I help you?” she said politely, continuing to glare at her father.

“ _Ah, Ran-san? This is Edogawa Fumiyo. Nice to speak to you again._ ”

“Edogawa-san?” Ran said in surprise. “It has been a while since you called! How are you?”

“ _Fine, fine. How is Conan-chan doing? He’s so susceptible to winter colds, poor thing..._ ”

“No, he’s perfectly healthy!” Ran laughed. She turned as the rapid patter of small feet sounded on the stairs.

“Ran-neechan!” Conan called. “I’m going to play at Agasa-Hakase’s! He’s got a new game he wants to show everyone!”

“Oh, hold on a minute, Conan-kun!” Ran called. “He’s just here, do you want to talk to him?” she asked into the phone.

“ _Oh, that would be good. I’ll need to talk to you again afterwards, though._ ”

“Um, okay,” Ran said, sticking her head out of the office door. “Conan-kun, it’s your Okaa-san! She wants to talk to you.”

“Okay!” Conan said, running over and reaching up for the phone. She reached down to hand it to him, before backing away to watch him talk.

“Okaa-san!” Conan said happily. “Yeah, I’m fine...”

Ran smiled gently as she watched him chatter to his mother. It really _had_ been a while since she’d heard from Conan’s parents. In all honesty, she often forgot entirely about them, as Conan seemed to. He said that they often called on his cellphone to check in, so this call to the office was awfully unusual, but maybe it was just because his mother had to talk to Ran.

 _I wonder why...?_ Ran thought. _Did something happen?_

“Yay!” Conan yelped cheerfully, drawing Ran out of her reverie. “Okay, I’ll give the phone to Ran-neechan.” He turned, holding up the phone. “Ran-neechan—”

“I’ve got it,” she said with a smile. “Yes?”

“ _Okay, Ran-san. What I was asking Conan-chan was if he wanted to spend Christmas in America with us. It’s short notice, I know, but plane flights are_ so _hard to get this time of year and I only just got tickets to come get him..._ ”

“Oh, really?” Ran asked brightly. “Wow, that’d be wonderful! After all, he hasn’t really been back to America for the longest time...”

“ _I know, and he’s all for it, so I just wanted to check with you... Just for a few days, though. He says he wants to be back in Japan for New Year’s, since the celebrations in Japan are so much bigger than they are here._ ”

“No, that would be wonderful... when were you thinking of getting him?” Ran asked.

“ _Well, with the time difference... about 7 PM tomorrow, I suppose. Can he be ready to go by then?_ ”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Ran said with a smile. “I looked forward to seeing you again, Edogawa-san!”

“ _You too, Ran-san. Oh, it’ll be wonderful to have Conan-chan home for Christmas! Ah, I have to go... I’ll see you tomorrow!_ ”

“See you, Edogawa-san!” Ran said happily. A second later, the phone clicked off. She turned with a little smile to face Conan, who was hopping nervously on the spot by the door, a little bundle of excited energy. “Now, your mother will be here by 7 PM tomorrow,” she said. “So if you want to play with your friends tomorrow, be back by 5:30 _at the very latest_ , understand? You need time to pack and eat a proper dinner before you get on that plane.”

His face split into a huge, childish grin. “Okay, Ran-neechan!” he said, speeding off down the stairs. “I promise I’ll be back!”

“Have fun,” she called after his retreating form. _That boy... sometimes, he’s so composed and mature, but when it comes down to it, he can be such a hyperactive little boy..._

Kogoro snored loudly from the desk. Ran sighed in exasperation. “Otou-san,” she said loudly, “if you don’t wake up I’m dumping cold water on your head. Go on, get up.”

“Fine, fine...” Kogoro grumbled. Ran pulled out one of the trash bags she kept next to his crime files and handed it to him.

“Do me a favour and clean up in here,” she ordered. “I doubt you were listening, but Conan-kun is going back to his parents’ for Christmas, so Edogawa-san is coming to pick him up tomorrow, and I want the office to be _clean_ by then, understand?” She went over to the door, reaching for her coat and slipping on her shoes.

“Hey, where are you going?” Kogoro protested.

“I promised I’d meet Sonoko today,” she said. “I’ll be back around four. There’s no dinner until this room is _spotless_.” With that, she skipped down, the stairs, stifling a little chuckle as she heard her father calling desperately after her.

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“Okay, that worked,” Shinichi said, stepping into the foyer of Agasa’s lab. “So what’s the plan?”

“Took you long enough,” Ai complained as he entered the living room. “Genta-kun, Mitsuhiko-kun and Ayumi-chan will actually be here by about twelve, and we need to have a plan by then.”

“So what do you suggest, Ai-chan?” Yukiko asked. She and Yuusaku were already there, Yuusaku reading—and apparently actually comprehending—a few of Ai’s research notes.

“I want to be able to run a proper drug test, for once,” Ai explained, picking up a sheet of notes. “Which means that I want blood samples imminently before and after the change, and at occasional intervals in between. I intend to find out if the antidote shows up any differences in your blood, and anything that can be monitored to predict how long the change is likely to last. We don’t really want any of the disaster scenarios that have happened before due to the antidote’s _wonderful_ sense of timing, do we? East Okuho was disastrous, and the Bird’s Eye View restaurant could so easily have been worse...”

“The Bird’s Eye View Restaurant? In the Beika Centre?” Yukiko asked with interest and an evil little giggle. “Shin-chan, did you take Ran-chan _there_? Well, well...”

“That’s not really the issue,” Shinichi muttered quickly, going bright red, “and as far as I’m concerned, the timing for that change _was_ a disaster. She was in tears when Conan had to tell her that ‘baka-tantei-san’ had left her _again_...”

“Which we _don’t_ want here,” Ai said smoothly. “Due to the _very_ volatile nature of the new test drug, I’m afraid you’re going to have to stay here for the first six hours. If you make it through that, the critical points that we need to be wary of are twelve, twenty-four and thirty-six hours after the change, and at those times I’d rather you were here again. After thirty-six hours will be fairly touch-and-go, but I think you should feel the change coming on with enough advance warning to leave without too much trouble.”

“So if I take it tomorrow evening,” Shinichi thought aloud, mentally timelineing, “I stay here all night for the danger period, and then if I leave right after the twelve-hour mark, I should be certain of being all right throughout Christmas Day. Then I should turn back late Boxing Day or the day after. That about right?”

“In theory,” Ai sighed. “But in practice... given the highly erratic and mysterious nature of this stuff, the only thing I’m certain of is that it _won’t_ turn you into a pink elephant. “

“Um... I guess that’s a good certainty to have...” Shinichi said nervously as Yukiko broke down in giggles and Yuusaku restricted himself to a smile.

“As such, I think if you want to meet Ran-kun on Boxing Day,” Yuusaku said, “I think Yukiko and I may have to stalk you.”

“So get what you _really_ need to get done done on Christmas,” Yukiko said, winking at her now glowing red son. “No beating around the bush this time, Shin-chan. She needs to know how you feel about her, you know. She’s been very worried about you.”

“I _know_ that,” Shinichi grumbled. “I watch her worry every day...”

“Any anticipated side-effects that we should be aware of?” Yuusaku asked, returning to flipping through the notes and cutting through the uncomfortable silence that had fallen.

“Just the usual worries, really,” Ai said. “You’re going to be _ravenous_ , since your larger body needs more food—same for water, you’ll be really thirsty—but if you eat and drink too much just before you return to a child, you’ll be in trouble, since your child’s stomach and bladder are both smaller than their adult equivalents. Also, you’ll probably have more energy and need to sleep less, but try not to overdo it on the physical exertion, because if you do ‘Conan’ is going to sleep for _days_. You could probably pass that off as jetlag, but better not to have to. I thought you were going to sleep forever when you got back from East Okuho... lucky she thought you were just getting over a cold. And do try not to seriously injure yourself—you got quite a bit scratched up there as well and the scratches and bruises didn’t change size when you grew and shrank, so I have really _no_ idea what any serious injury would do to you...”

“Hey, I’m not going to step in front of a car or anything,” Shinichi pointed out. “So if this goes well... what next?”

“Well, to spare you the ‘scientific gibberish’ as you so often ask me to,” Ai replied dryly, “it’ll mean that I’ve isolated how to extend the lifespan of the cure. If I can expand on that... I may not be able to make it permanent, but I think a cure lasting a century or so would be sufficient, don’t you? Thirty years might even do it. By that point, switching back ten years wouldn’t be that noticeable... might even be _welcome_.”

“What happens after that?” Yuusaku asked sternly. Shinichi looked at him in surprise. “I know this is good news and I don’t mean to burst your bubble, Shinichi, but if you return to yourself even pseudo-permanently then They’ll probably find out very quickly that you’re still alive. They’ll find you.”

“And I’ll be ready for them this time,” Shinichi replied grimly. “I can work with Kir and the FBI to draw them out and deal with Them. Well, I’ve already been working with the FBI, but I haven’t been able to input anything more than brains for now. That’s the problem, really; Edogawa Conan’s starting to draw a little too much notice from the Organization. Sooner or later, They _are_ going to find me, no matter what, and I’d rather be big enough to handle Them when they do.”

“That’s true,” Yukiko said, glancing at Ai, “but…”

“Yeah, the problem is it won’t only be me They’re after,” Shinichi continued. “Which is why I need to deal with Them fast, as soon as I’m back to normal. Unfortunately, all of the places Haibara knew about were destroyed when she left, but with any luck I can get the information I need off of Kir... wait a minute, that’s no good.” He leaned his forehead into his hands and propped his arms up on his knees. “If she knew enough to bring the Organization down, she’d have leaked it to the FBI or her superiors at the CIA already... damn! Am I gonna have to remain a kid even _after_ we find the cure?”

“I don’t think so,” Ai said, surprisingly reassuringly. “I think things are going to come to a head soon... one way or another. Your life’ll be at risk either way when they do, so you might as well take your better chances as Kudo Shinichi than as Edogawa Conan.” Shinichi realized that she was making a very tiny motion with her head towards the clear sky outside of the Professor’s huge lab windows. After a long moment, he realized what it meant.

_The comet. It’s due soon. Pandora..._

“ _You really_ buy _this?” he asked her in shock. It had taken him a long time to swallow the “immortality” part—_ no it didn’t, it took you all of two minutes back in Tropical land, _some evil part of his mind reminded him—and finally, his brain had first sought the out route of_ it’s a joke. “ _You wanted a mermaid’s arrow from Bikunijima because you were genuinely looking for...?”_

_“I look in the mirror every day, Kudo,” she said calmly, having spent the time he spent spluttering redonning her stoic mask. “I figure this is pretty even on the strange scale.”_

_“But... the_ Organization _buys it—?”_

 _“I don’t know why, but Anokata is very set on the acquisition of Pandora,” Ai replied smoothly, “and no-one—_ no-one _—goes against Anokata.”_

 _Shinichi’s brain instantly latched onto the distraction. “By the way... who_ is _Anokata?”_

 _“I can’t say,” Ai said. He glared at her. “No, don’t start again, I genuinely can’t. I don’t_ know _. I’ve never met him... or her... never spoken with them, only read the occasional email from them about my research. Even Gin and Vermouth speak about Anokata with... well, it’s almost_ religious _reverence. I don’t know who they are or where they live. I don’t know their age, even their gender..._ nothing _.”_

_“Great,” Shinichi muttered. “Not only am I up against an evil organization searching for semi-mythical jewels and creating weird chemicals in order to obtain immortality, they’re led by a faceless supervillain. Brilliant.”_

_“The Organization works on an ignorance hierarchy,” Ai explained. “Each member knows a little about their equals, everything about their inferiors and nothing about their superiors. All I know is that Anokata is merciless. No second chances. Not ever.”_

“It’s too much to hope that you’d be willing to come back to America until it all ‘comes to a head’, isn’t it?” Yukiko sighed, jerking Shinichi out of his thoughts.

“I’m in too deep, Kaa-san,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s no way I can drop this case. Not now. Besides...”

“Yes, we _all_ know why you don’t want to leave Japan,” she giggled. Shinichi blushed again as he avoided the teasing looks of his parents and Haibara. The distinctive sound of an old car’s engine revved up outside.

“That’ll be Hakase with the others,” Ai said, standing up and holding out her hand to Yuusaku for her research papers. “I’d better put these away. You go greet them...”

“Yuu-chan, you’ve not met ‘Conan-kun’s’ friends yet, have you?” Yukiko squealed.  “Oh, they’re all so sweet!”

“And _actually_ kids,” Shinichi said, heading for the door, which opened before he reached it. He instantly transformed into Edogawa Conan.

“Guess what, guess what!” he yelled excitedly. “I’m going back to _America_ for Christmas!”

Yuusaku raised an eyebrow as Shinichi was engulfed in his friend’s chatter and complaints. “He’s almost as good as you,” he whispered to Yukiko. “You almost can’t tell that he’s still bottling up the stress.”

Yukiko nodded in agreement. “I think a day out with Ran-chan will be _very_ therapeutic for him.”

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“I’ll be there a little after seven,” Yukiko said, checking her watch as Conan waved out of the window at his departing friends. “Goodness, it’ll take me _all day_ to set that mask, I’d better make the base layer tonight... See you, Shin-chan!”

“I’d better walk you home,” Yuusaku said as his wife bounded out of the door. “I’m sure Ran-kun won’t be happy about you coming home alone at this time of night.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shinichi muttered. “Just give me a minute. I need to apologize to Haibara. I kind of exploded at her the other day...”

He headed down to the lab again as his father disappeared into the foyer. Ai was, worryingly, cleaning a syringe.

“See you later, then,” Shinichi said nervously. “By the way, um... I’m sorry. For exploding at you yesterday. I mean, you’re making the antidote and all, and...”

“It’s all right,” she said calmly. “I guess it _is_ about time that I told you the truth, just for once. I guess I owe you it. After all...” she put the needle down, her stoic mask melting slightly into sad. “You... _are_ trying to save my hide. Even though I got you into this mess.”

“Well... I feel like I owe it to your sister, I guess,” Shinichi said, caught a little off-balance. “Anyway... I couldn’t just abandon someone to those bastards.”

“You could have, though,” Ai said, stepping around the desk. “But you hid me and protected me. You didn’t have to, but you did. Kudo-kun... thank you.” She walked past him, leaving the lab for now, but suddenly, as she passed, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. She kept going without breaking her stride as Shinichi stared after her, red-faced.

“Don’t read too much into it,” she said, not turning back. “I like Ran-san too much. Just... thank you.”

“Um... okay,” Shinichi said, staring after her, still a little shellshocked.


	15. Loneliness

“Conan-kun!” Ran rushed down the stairs as he was lacing his shoes on the step in front of the office. “You forgot your toiletries!”

“Ah, thank you, Ran-san,” Edogawa Fumiyo said gratefully, taking the toiletries bag from Ran and tucking it into Conan’s backpack with a reprimanding look at her son. “Dear me, Conan-chan. Such a scatterbrain. Definitely your father’s son.” Ran had, whenever she asked, been told that Edogawa Soichiro was the sportswriter for the same newspaper that Fumiyo was the layout editor for, hence his transferral to America to cover the Superbowl, and was a man who didn’t have much memory retention for anything but sports. This explained a lot of Conan’s parents’ uncommunicativeness in the early days—apparently Soichiro had insisted that he would call and organize things, and, Fumiyo often said with a sigh, she really should have known better than to let him. She was grateful that Agasa-Hakase had been level-headed enough to find somewhere safe for Conan and contact them about it, although again he had left the details with Soichiro.

 _Even Shinichi, with that photographic memory of his, tends to lose track of all else when football or a murder gets on his mind..._ Ran thought, smiling ruefully. _Must be a guy thing._ She was, privately, feeling a little embarrassed about some of the weird notions she used to have about Conan. She’d seen them together, hadn’t she, at the school play? And she’d talked to Shinichi on the phone when Conan was perfectly visible. There were _rational_ explanations for the remarkable similarities between Conan and Shinichi, and the fact that Conan had turned up the very evening that Shinichi vanished... well, life was funny like that sometimes, wasn’t it? _Maybe someone knew that I’d be needing a little support._

“So is that _really_ everything this time, Conan-chan?” Fumiyo said. Conan nodded, avoiding his mother’s eyes, one very embarrassed little boy. “Good. Now, we’d better hurry. Goodness, we’ll be late for the flight! Oh, it’s not fun trying to get flights on Christmas Eve...” She smiled at Ran as she picked up Conan’s bag and started to tow him away. “Thank you very much, Ran-san. We’ll bring you back something nice as a Christmas present, won’t we, Conan-chan?”

“Uh-huh!” Conan said, looking back to smile and wave at Ran. “Sayonara, Ran-neechan!”

“Sayonara, Conan-kun!” she called. “Be careful!”

“See ya, brat,” her father snorted from over her shoulder.

Ran looked back in surprise to see that he was also putting his shoes on. “Otou-san, where _are_ you going at this time of night?”

“The guys are having a Mahjongg party!” he said gleefully. He shrunk back slightly under her glare. “Hey... I’ll be back by midnight, I swear, and then I’ll sleep off the hangover tomorrow morning and be in good shape to meet your mother for lunch like I promised. Good enough?”

“ _Fine_ ,” Ran sighed exasperatedly. “But make sure you have your keys, all right? I’m locking the door after you leave.”

“I’ve got ‘em, I’ve got ‘em,” Kogoro said, waving the aforementioned keys before stowing them in his pocket and bounding down the stairs. “Mahjongg, here I come!”

“ _Honestly..._ ” Ran muttered, locking the office, before turning and heading up to the apartment. “Am I looking after one child or two?”

The _click_ of the lock seemed awfully loud as she locked the door to the apartment. The dinner dishes needed washing, so she did that, but all the while she was stuck on how eerily _quiet_ it was.

 _Well, it would be,_ she reminded herself. _Otou-san’s not got the horse races on, and when he’s not doing that, Conan-kun is generally chattering to you or watching one of his programs... The things he learns from TV, I’ve_ got _to find out what it is that he watches... But they’re both gone, so you’re here on your own, and you’re_ much _quieter than those two rowdy boys…_

“Except for when I’m talking to myself,” she muttered aloud. Putting away the dishes, she felt oddly at a loss for what to do for a moment, Shaking her head, she retreated to her room and knelt down under her bed to pull out her little Christmas knitting project. _Might as well do something with my hands. Maybe I should turn on some music as well..._

The knitting didn’t really improve her mood, though. It just reminded her of who it was for, who she wouldn’t be able to give it to face-to-face. Of who, right now, alone in the empty, silent apartment, she really, really missed.

 _Shinichi..._ she thought sadly, her fingers slowing. _It’s strange... I still feel like you only just left... like if I just went past your house on my way to school, you’d be there, same as always, toast in hand and complaining about how early it was..._

It wasn’t just because Conan and her father were gone, not really. Without Shinichi, no matter how many people were around... she always felt so _alone_. _You’re the most important thing in my life, Shinichi... so please... come back soon... come back_ at all _..._

She had to put the knitting away again. She didn’t want to wipe her eyes with needles in her hands.

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“All right,” Ai said, holding up the syringe to the light and examining the blood inside. “I’m going to start analysing this. Here.” She handed him the small plastic test tube containing the antidote. “Better go take that. I think your mother left some of your clothes in the bathroom.”

“Thanks, Haibara,” Shinichi said, picking up the pill and working very hard not to _run_ to the bathroom. He wasn’t looking forward to the change, nor the twelve hours of just _waiting_ he’d have to go through, but then, but then...

Yukiko had left clothes out for him, a slightly dressy but casual combination of blue jeans, a white button-down shirt and a dark blue jacket; _at least she couldn’t find a red tie,_ he thought ruefully. His mother had the strangest sense of humour sometimes. He closed and locked the door and set the pill on the countertop. He set his glasses and watch next to it before starting to undress; he wanted to do this _before_ taking the antidote—he had no idea how long it would take to take effect, and he _really_ didn’t relish the idea of suffering the same “Incredible Hulk” effect that he had in East Okuho.

Finally, he picked up the pill and placed it in his mouth. He _really_ wasn’t looking forward to the incredible heat coming of his cells being forced into overtime production as the apoptoxins were wrenched from them, but it wouldn’t last forever. Soon enough, he’d pass out from the pain, and when he woke up a little while later...

He’d be Kudo Shinichi, maybe just for a day, maybe for more, but _definitely_ for Ran.

 _And this time,_ he thought, steeling himself as he swallowed and fire burned its way down his throat, igniting his stomach, _I’ll say what I need to say... and nothing and no-one will get... in the way…_

His thoughts faded as he collapsed against the door, gasping for air. His blood was on fire, every heartbeat sending it pulsing through his veins, melting his flesh and bones, and his heart was trying to jump out of his chest....

And then, cool, blissful darkness overwhelmed him...

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Ai was sitting outside of the bathroom when he came out, holding a stopwatch. She held it up, showing the numbers _11:30:49_ ticking downwards.

“I started it when the screaming started,” she explained, sounding completely unruffled. “When it hits zero, you can go.”

“I have to ask… is there no way to make that any _less_ painful?” Shinichi asked, relishing the deeper timbre of his voice.

“Aside from your body working overtime to more than double your body mass, and your cells being split apart to accommodate the new ones,” Ai said, tossing him the stopwatch, “you’ve got ten _years_ of growing pains in about ten _minutes_. I think you should just be satisfied that it doesn’t _kill_ you.”

“Well, that’s good too,” Shinichi said, and wiggled his fingers. “Hey, you were right—no elephantitis!”

“Baka,” Ai muttered, hopping down from the desk where she was perched and walking away, presumably to the lab. “Come on. I need a comparison blood sample. The drug won’t show up, but if it’s affected anything else noticeable, maybe I can work backwards from that...”

“Yeas, ma’am,” Shinichi muttered, but he couldn’t help grinning. It was almost like he was seeing everything for the first time from his higher perspective. He loved feeling the length and strength in his arms and legs as he walked, loved being able to reach doorknobs and light switches, loved being able to take the stairs two at a time. Maybe he could get his football—his _adult_ football, with real _weight_ in it—and do a little skills work out back while he waited to go free...

“Oh yeah, and a package came for you while you were out,” Ai said, cutting through his thoughts. “I didn’t see it, but your mother was squealing about it and your father was complaining about using his credit card for express delivery...  sound about right?”

“Ah... yeah!” Shinichi said, suddenly and rather guiltily remembering the order he’d made from Agasa’s computer the night before. “Good, it got here in time...”

“Last minute Christmas shopping?” Ai asked, reaching up for the doorknob to her basement lab. Shinichi, unable to resist, reached over her head and opened it for her. She just gave him a look that clearly said that the evil eyes and involuntary gratitude were cancelling each other out.

“Let’s get this over with,” he sighed, rolling up his sleeve. “You were right—I’m _starving_.”

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He was tying his shoelaces when the stopwatch finally _beep_ ed.

“You’re past the danger period,” Ai said, looking him up and down, “and you haven’t even passed out like you did at the play.”

“So if I need to be back here around about seven, right?” Shinichi said, standing up and pulling on his coat. His voice sounded very loud in the quiet house—his parents had returned home and gone to bed sometime after midnight, once it was affirmed that the drug was unlikely to kill him in their absence, and Agasa-Hakase had already been snoring by then. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Ai said, with perhaps the merest hint of a smile. “Keep your head down.”

“Will do,” Shinichi said, waving as he shut the front door behind him and stepped out into Beika Street.

It wasn’t just Agasa-Hakase’s—the entire of Tokyo was still asleep. Unlike in LA, where he had spent a Christmas or two in the past, Tokyo wasn’t awoken by its grade-school population at roughly 4:30 AM. The world was dark and still, the only sound the softness of the falling snow.

He started walking, not really thinking about where he was going. He didn’t need to. His feet would carry him to Ran’s—a path he’d walked almost every day of his life.

He wasn’t sure if there’d ever been a time when Ran wasn’t his best friend. For Kami’s sake, the first picture in his baby album was of his mother and Ran’s mother sitting side by side, arms around their almost equally swollen bellies. They’d played together in nursery school every day, often going to Agasa-Hakase’s afterwards just so that they could play together a little longer. They’d walked to school every day for nine and a half grades—well, they still did, really. Ran’s mother had walked them, at the beginning of first grade, but then she’d left halfway through. Shinichi could still remember that day, and the period leading up to it; how often Ran had come to his house rather than going home just yet, too scared to face the fighting, and he’d thought nothing of playing games and chattering and making a fool of himself and just making her smile. Even then, that had been his first priority—Ran’s happiness. It was all that he thought about, really—insisting that she stay and have dinner, at his house, where she could play with him and laugh and be safe from her parent’s arguments... Especially the day when Eri finally left.

 _“Ran?” he said, passing the ball away and then doing the unthinkable_ — _he stopped moving in the middle of a game. But something was wrong. It was a Sunday_ — _wasn’t she staying home with her parents? Why was she out by the street?_

_When she looked up to his call, he was shocked to see tears pouring down her cheeks. Ignoring the jeers from the other boys, he rushed over to Ran, intent on finding out what had happened to her._

_“Ran?” he said. “Ran, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”_

_“O-okaa-san...” she said, gulping out sobs. “She left... she left in a taxi, and took all her things... She’s gone and I-I don’t know when she’s c-coming back... I t-tried to follow the taxi, b-but I l-l-lost it...” Bursting into loud wails, she flung her arms around Shinichi and sobbed into his shoulder. What could he do but hug her back?_

Ran had been so distraught, and the situation so serious, that the boys hadn’t even teased them about it—and if it involves girls, it’s a pretty serious situation that seven-year-old boys _won’t_ tease you about. Shinichi had just stood there for the longest time, holding Ran while she cried. He’d swung around in a tree like a monkey and deliberately fallen out—repeatedly—to make her giggle again. They played together the whole day, and in the end, she’d fallen asleep on a park bench, watching the sunset. Shinichi had just hoisted her up onto his back and carried her home...

Over ten years later, here he stood again, looking up into the dark windows of the Mori Detective Agency. He felt like he had at the beginning of grade school, when he and Ran had drifted apart because he’d told her not to call him by his given name in school because the other boys had been teasing him. Once again, she had to know him by a false name; once more, he had to distance himself from her. The people that he was involved with now would do far worse to her than tease if he didn’t...

“ _You’re playing with the big boys now,_ ” he sang, under his breath and closer to the key than usual, remembering hearing the snatch of song somewhere in the States. Gripping the bag in one hand, snow melting in his hair, he opened the outer door and entered the stairwell. It was seven-thirty in the morning, now; early, but he didn’t want to waste any time. He didn’t have a lot to spare.

Praying that Ran wouldn’t kill him, he rang the bell.

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_“Shinichi!”_

_Ran tried to call out to him, but her voice was gone. She couldn’t move her feet. She reached out, but he was out of her reach, so far away, and alarm bells were ringing..._

_Drrrriiiinnnnggg..._

Ran slowly opened her eyes as the alarm bells transformed themselves into doorbells. She blinked, waking up fully, and glanced over at the clock. It was seven-thirty in the morning. _Who’s ringing at this time of the morning?_ She wondered. _Did Otou-san forget his keys after all…?_ Yawning, she pulled on her robe and slipped on her slippers. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she said to the empty air as the bell rang again. As she unlocked the apartment door, she wondered why he wasn’t yelling yet. Maybe he had a hangover.

Finally, she got the door to the apartment unlocked, and stifled a yawn as she pushed it open and looking around.

“Otou-san, I thought you had your...” she began, but stopped, for two reasons. One was that her father had just snored very loudly from his room.

The other was that she’d caught sight of the man standing on the landing below, a gift bag in hand and snow melting in his hair. She gasped, wiping her eyes, as if the lingering remnants of her dream were playing tricks on her. But when she opened her eyes again, he was still there, and now he’d turned, smiling up at her...

“Hey,” he said. “Um, sorry for waking you up...”

“Shinichi?” Ran whispered, before clearing her throat and finding her voice. “I had no _idea_ you were coming back—!”

“Sorry,” he said, smiling a little nervously and walking up the stairs. “I kind of had to... sneak away... and my body clock’s a little messed up, so I forgot how early it was...”

Ran really didn’t care. She was more focused on the fact that she was wearing her dressing gown and pyjamas, and her hair had to be a _mess_.


	16. All I Want For Christmas

Ran locked the bathroom door behind her, nearly throwing her finally selected outfit aside as she started running a fast shower. She scrubbed her hair almost violently, getting all of the snarls and grease out of it.

_“Merry Christmas,” he said, handing her the gift bag he’d been carrying._

_“Thank you!” Ran said, trying to surreptitiously flatten her bed-head. “Come on in... can you wait in here while I get dressed? Wow, this was a surprise... just be quiet, Otou-san’s still asleep, and you know what he’s like when he has a hangover...”_

_“Got it,” Shinichi said, smiling as he placed a finger to his lips and sat down on the couch._

_Ran must have emptied her entire wardrobe, swapping every item of her ensemble a dozen times, before finally settling on black tights, a red tartan skirt and a thick cream sweater—all very warm and, according to Fashion Guru Sonoko, a_ very _cute winter outfit. Then she’d run for the bathroom._

As she brushed and blow-dried her hair, she realized that she’d brought the little bag with her—and she hadn’t even opened it yet! Curious, she put down the blow-dryer and, as she tugged the last tangles from her hair, opened the bag with her other hand.

A few minutes later, having carefully dressed and rebrushed her hair for good measure, she left the bathroom. Shinichi looked around and gave her a surprisingly bashful smile when he saw that she was wearing the necklace.

Ran reached up and touched the intricate red orchid, suspended on a fine golden chain, immeasurably touched. “Shinichi…” she whispered. “It’s so beautiful. Thank you.”

“It’s just a necklace, Ran,” he said, stepping around the couch with the shy smile still on his face. “Not like you need the help...” He turned bright red, but if he was brave enough to say it, Ran figured, she could be brave enough not to tease him about it. She could feel her cheeks turning the same colour as his, the same colour as the beautiful necklace, and almost couldn’t speak.

“I-I have something for you, too,” she said tentatively. “I was, um, going to have Agasa-Hakase mail it, but, uh, I mean, since you’re here... I’ll just go get it...” she backed into her room, wanting to kick herself for the stammering. It was only Shinichi, for Kami’s sake! Why couldn’t she get it together this morning?

_Only?_

“Merry Christmas,” she said when she returned, handing him the soft blue scarf that she’d finally brought herself to finish late last night.

“Wow,” he said quietly, unravelling it. It was knitted in two shades of blue, with the darker blue making an elaborate wave pattern on the lighter wool. He unbuttoned the top couple of button on his coat and wrapped the scarf around his neck. “That’s _warm_. Is this your handiwork?”

“Yeah,” Ran said, her heart fluttering in her chest. “That pattern took me _forever_...”

“It’s amazing,” Shinichi said, holding up one of the tasselled ends for examination before tucking it into his coat. “Thank you, Ran. Do you want to go get breakfast or something? I’ll buy, as an apology for dragging you out of bed...”

“That sounds great,” Ran said, wrapping her own scarf very carefully over the necklace. “I’d better just leave a note for Otou-san...”

She slipped her brown loafers on as she scribbled a quick note to her father. When she put her pen down, she was surprised to see Shinichi holding up her coat. Both of their cheeks heated up a little as he held out the sleeves for her to slide her arms into, and flipped her hair out of her collar for her.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice slipping away from her again. She couldn’t help it; it felt as if she spoke a little too loud, moved a little too fast, he would vanish, like a dream... “Hey... when are you leaving?”

“Not until sometime tomorrow,” he said with a broad grin. “So we’ve got all day to hang out, and I think everywhere we go, if there’s a PA system, I’m going to borrow it to ask if anyone planning to commit a murder in the immediate vicinity would just hand themselves over and save me a lot of trouble....”

“You clearly haven’t lost any regard for your own abilities,” Ran teased as she shut the door to the apartment behind her. The friendly banter dispelled a little of the strangeness, the tension that had appeared between them, but it was still there, at the edge of everything they did or said. Ran found herself staring slightly at Shinichi as they descended the stairs, really _looking_ at him, as if she was seeing him for the first time. Maybe it was the familiarity that had allowed her to overlook just how important he was to her before, but his long absences had really brought to light just what he meant to her; looking at him properly now, she realized that she’d always been associating the concept of _Shinichi_ with the slightly obnoxious little boy who had been her best friend. Somewhere along the way, though, another Shinichi had appeared, one that she hadn’t really noticed; the handsome, brave, intelligent _young man._

A young man that, she now knew all too well, she could never live without.

 _“...Ya realized for the first time how important he was to yer life when he_ wasn’t _in it...”_

 _I think that’s the primary definition of_ ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’, Ran thought, blushing a little. _Because... I just can’t envision a future without him..._

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The little cafe overlooking Beika Park was just opening by the time they reached it at eight. There were a few early risers in the streets, but mostly, they were still empty and quiet: Shinichi, Ran and the snow seemed to be the only things in the world.

“Ohayou, you two,” the cafe owner said, smiling in a friendly manner as Shinichi held the door open for Ran. She sighed at the warmth of the little cafe, tugging off her gloves—the same gloves that he had given her two Christmases before. “Merry Christmas. You looking for breakfast? Grab a seat anywhere you like.”

After they’d ordered coffee and pastries, the woman disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone except for the occasional passerby outside the window.

“I’m really glad that you’re here,” Ran said, watching the snow fall. “You’ve been away for so long... I was starting to wonder if you were _ever_ coming back...”

“I’m sorry,” Shinichi apologized. “I wish I didn’t have to be away, but, well, you know...”

“The case,” Ran sighed. “I know. Always the case. What kind of case is it that keeps _you_ occupied for so long? I mean, the longest case you were ever on before took you a week, but it’s been _two years_ now... can’t you tell me?”

“I wish I could, Ran, I swear,” Shinichi said, a little uncomfortably. “But...” he trailed off as the cafe owner arrived with their breakfast.

“Sorry for the wait,” she said, setting down their plates and cups. “Enjoy, you two. I’ll leave you alone now, shall I?” with a wink, she returned to the kitchen.

“Are you going to tell me something now?” Ran pressed. “Or am I going to have to stay in the dark?”

“Ran...” Shinichi began, starting to try to think of a cop-out, but for a moment his own words came back to him.

“ _Just level with me. Just for once. Please._ ”

 _Hypocrite,_ he reprimanded himself. Then he sighed and glanced around to make certain that the cafe owner was still well out of earshot and no-one else was coming into the cafe. “It’s... it _is_ a lot bigger than anything else I’ve ever handled, that’s why it’s taking so long. And it goes deep. I can’t even begin to imagine how many people will be affected, but... I’m well on my way to finishing it. And I’m in too deep to back out now.”

“In too deep?” Ran said with a worried look. “Shinichi... you’re not in danger, are you?”

“No!” he said quickly—a little _too_ quickly. Ran’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll be fine. I’m being careful. Please, Ran, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“There’s _really_ nothing to worry about?” Ran said, still looking worried.

“No,” Shinichi said, shaking his head. “Of course not.”

“But...” Ran stirred her coffee idly, before looking him straight in the eye. “Would you tell me if there was?”

“I...” Shinichi looked down, away from her look, even though he knew how suspicious it would look. “I don’t want you to worry, Ran. I swear there’s no need to. Please... just trust me, okay? Can you... still do that?” He couldn’t help the _still_ , but he also couldn’t help the worry. He’d snapped over Haibara holding out on him, and he’d had a vague idea of _what_ she was hiding; it had to be even harder for Ran to have no idea at all. _And when she snaps, she does more than yell_ , he thought nervously. _If the Black Organization doesn’t kill me, she just might…_

“I always trust you, Shinichi,” she said, before smiling and biting into her Danish. She swallowed, and added, “You’ve yet to give me a reason not to.”

Shinichi managed to bring up a smile as well as he started to eat, but he still felt uneasy. _If only you knew, Ran... What would happen?_

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“Oh, look!” Ran said, stopping and tugging Shinichi’s arm to make him stop and watch as well. He paused and “wow”ed softly.

After breakfast, they had, by mutual silent agreement, switched to lighter, happier topics, which, by the time they’d paid their bill and started walking through Beika Park, had turned to mutual childhood memories. They had been discussing the mysterious Arsene Lupin fan in the library in First Grade when Ran had spotted the sun rising. The snow had stopped falling by then, the world covered in a seemingly endless white canvas, and they stopped to watch in silence as the rising sun painted it with soft yellows and oranges and golds.

Even though the snow had stopped, however, it was still freezing, and the wind was sharp and cold. Ran shivered as another breeze sliced through her. To her shock and not unwelcome surprise, Shinichi put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her a little closer and warming her, though whether that was due to his warmth or what had to be a full-body blush she wasn’t sure. Still, the silence was comfortable, not awkward, and the blurring of the line between best friends and something more felt like the most natural thing in the world.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this happy.

She still couldn’t shake the feeling that it was too perfect, like it had to all be some wonderful dream. Shinichi was here with her, and would be for the entire day… in which time, who knew _what_ could happen.

 _Well, someone could get murdered,_ she couldn’t help thinking. _Not an impossible scenario... It’s happened before, for that matter..._ still, she shook that thought out of her head. _Don’t summon bad events with bad thoughts, Ran... forget about Sod’s Law... just be happy while he’s here. After all, he’ll leave again soon, won’t he? Leave me again..._

She leaned a little closer, as if he was about to slip away.

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“Hey, the streets are filling up,” Shinichi said, waving Ran over and stepping back from the binoculars to let her see. She giggled as she moved the binoculars around, marvelling at how much of Tokyo was visible from the top of Toto Tower. The streets were growing full now that it was past nine o’clock, almost entirely couples. Both he and Ran had been flustered and blushing—again—when an old couple, passing them in the park, had commented on “what a sweet young couple” they were, but then again, he still had his arm around her shoulders at that point, and they _were_ out together on Christmas, so it wasn’t surprising.

 _Ran and I... a couple, huh_? he thought, watching her turn the dials on the binoculars in order to zoom in on something below. _If only I could always be here with her... If I hadn’t been shrunk that day..._ would _I be here with her?_

That was the question, wasn’t it? Everything had been shaken up that day, his entire world changed; yet if it hadn’t, how many people would be dead now? How far back would the FBI be, and how many people would have suffered as a result? How late would he have come up against the Organization? _Because between Kid and the sheer number of murders those bastards have perpetrated, I would have come across them sooner or later, make no mistake... and at the point, would they have just poisoned me? By that point, would I have worked up the courage to tell Ran how I felt, or would we still have been ‘just friends’? Maybe... It took a little shaking up to help me realize that some things fit better out of their old places..._

“Look, there’s our old Grade School!” Ran said. “Conan-kun goes there now, you know? I bet it hasn’t changed a bit...”

 _No, not really,_ thought, slipping back to the drinks machines by the elevators while she was preoccupied. Her words reminded him of something that he _did_ want back to the way it used to be, but it also reminded him of the conversation that they’d been having before they’d stopped to watch the sunrise. _That man that night was Kuroba Toichi, I’m sure of it. He was challenging Tou-san... or questioning him?_ as he slipped a few coins into the machine, his two trains of thought—the case and the Kid—converged into one _very_ good line. _Once I’m back to Conan, I’ll check out Kuroba Kaito. I don’t like the idea of working with a criminal, but if what Tou-san said is true... he’s also a guy like me, whose life was left in shreds by the Organization. As I suppose those Scots would say, ‘Better to have him_ in _the tent pissing out..._ ’ _He could be a valuable ally. And that might bring us both that much closer to destroying Them... to getting our_ lives _back..._

He picked up the two cans of cola with a mischievous chuckle. He ambled back over to Ran, who was swivelling the binoculars around, apparently looking for something. She paused before he got there, zooming in on something, but didn’t appear to notice him getting closer.

She _did_ notice when he gently knocked the cola can into her cheek, yelping in surprise and jerking away from the binoculars to stare at him in surprise. Then she grinned and swiped the can from him.

“In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have been so badly shocked, should I?” she laughed. “Some things _never_ change...”

“Guys _never_ outgrow our pranks,” he agreed with a grin, popping open his cola, privately thinking, _Just look at Kuroba Toichi..._

Ran popped open her own soda at arms’ length, a good move considering how it’d been shaken when it was knocked into her cheek and as such sprayed a fine sheen of cold cola over Shinichi rather than her. She burst out laughing when he sputtered. He couldn’t resist. He wiped the cola off of his face in a manner that _just so happened_ to spray a little back on her. She gasped but kept laughing, and he finally joined her. He couldn’t help it. He loved to see her laugh so happily, so whole-heartedly. He always had. The ringing sound was one that he hadn’t really heard much since becoming Conan, and it was one that he sorely missed.

“Too bad that it’s too cold for fountains and rainbows,” she giggled. She raised her can. “Kampai!”

“Kampai,” Shinichi said, clinking his can against hers before they both tipped them back and drank. Ran lowered her can first and glanced into the binoculars again, groaning when she realized that they’d timed out.

“Oh, that reminds me!” she yelped. “Through the binoculars, I saw that new movie _Sunset Snow_ is playing as a special feature at the Toto Cinema, just below! Maybe we should go see it? It’s gotten some really great reviews...”

Shinichi flicked open his phone and pulled up the browser to check internet times. “We’d better hurry,” he commented. “The next showing’s in fifteen minutes...”

“What?!” Ran cried, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the elevators. “We have to hurry!”

Shinichi was caught off-balance for a moment, but then he regained his feet and grasped her hand back, running alongside her. She looked a little flushed when she realized that she’d grabbed his hand, but he shot her a slightly bashful smile and squeezed. Her face lit up in a smile— _A beautiful, beautiful smile_ —as she squeezed back. She never let go of his hand.


	17. Fleeting Happiness

“Ran! I didn’t think you’d be out toda—oh- _ho_...”

 _Oh,_ no... Shinichi thought with a sigh as Sonoko’s voice rang out through the cinema lobby. Ran turned with a broad grin and a hint of a blush, and Shinichi also managed to set his face into a smile as he set eyes on the bubbly girl. He was surprised to see Kyogoku Makoto was trailing behind her.

 _Now, you’ve not even met the guy,_ he reminded himself as the two drew nearer. _For that matter, has Ran ever mentioned him to you...?_

“Well, it looks like I’m not the _only_ one whose vanishing boyfriend appeared for Christmas!” Sonoko said, laughing Ran, Shinichi and even Kyogoku blushed in response.  “How long are you back for, Kudo-kun?”

“Well, hopefully I don’t have to leave until tomorrow evening, but you never know,” Shinichi said with a shrug. “So you actually have a steady boyfriend? _You_?”

“Shinichi!” Ran said reprimandingly. “Sonoko and Kyogoku-kun have been keeping up a very effective long-distance relationship... oh, wait, you’ve not met Kyogoku-kun yet, have you?”

“I think you mentioned him once,” Shinichi gambled, looking the karate champ over. “Kyogoku Makoto, right? Geez, I thought only Hattori got that dark... nice to meet you.”

“I know who you are. The Meitantei Kudo Shinichi,” Kyogoku said, holding out his hand, which Shinichi shook. “Nice to meet you, too. Sonoko-san talks about you a lot. I get the impression that she doesn’t like you much.”

 _Just as disarmingly blunt and honest,_ Shinichi thought with a shrug. “Her and Ran and I have all been friends since Grade School,” he explained, “but she’s really more Ran’s friend than mine.”

“No way! We’re seeing the same movie?” Sonoko squealed as she and Ran compared tickets. “Brilliant! Come on, let’s go get seats before the theatre fills!” The girls were already moving away, chattering like they hadn’t seen each other in years, without looking to see if the guys that they actually _hadn’t_ seen in months were following them. Makoto and Shinichi exchanged a look universal to all men, whether they prided themselves on their brawn or their brains: _Women_.

“So, seriously,” Shinichi asked once he was certain that the girls weren’t paying any attention, “ _Sonoko_? I have to ask— _why_?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Kyogoku replied. “She’s a very sweet person. She cares about her friends a lot, especially Ran-san. Besides, she’s so beautiful...” he went a little darker brown. “I know she can be a little flaky, but she’s fairly sharp when she wants to be.”

“Each to their own,” Shinichi sighed. “I just _know_ she’s going to spend the entire movie playing matchmaker between Ran and I. She _always_ does that, ever since we were little...”

“Huh?” Kyogoku seemed confused. “I thought she said you two were already married.”

“What?!” Shinichi yelped, loud enough for the girls to turn and stare at him. Red-faced, he glared at Sonoko and said, “will you _please_ stop telling people that Ran and I are _married_? Some people might take you _seriously_!”

“ _Sonoko..._ ” Ran said warningly, also going bright red.

Sonoko broke down in giggles.  “Sooorryyyy,” she giggled, waving a hand at the guys. “Okay, okay... Makoto-san, they’re not married...”

“Don’t you _dare_ end that sentence with _yet_ , Sonoko,” Ran growled, which only engendered more mirth in the other girl.

“Oh, come on,” Sonoko giggled. “Everyone knows it’s only a matter of time...”

“By the way, there’s four seats up at the back, there,” Kyogoku pointed out, defusing Ran and Shinichi’s glares at Sonoko. “We’d better get them quickly...” He dashed up and slipped into the farthest chair just ahead of a couple who had been making for the seats. Sonoko sat next to him, still deep in discussion with Ran, which left Shinichi in the aisle seat. He then realized that the cinema was filled entirely with couples. He caught Kyogoku’s eye over the girls’ heads, and they shared the same thought.

_It’s a Christmas romance movie. Crap. Chick-flick alert._

“Oh, it’s starting!” Ran said, instantly quieting down. The lights faded and the screen slowly brightened up to reveal a man in Sengoku-era garb trudging through a blizzard. Suddenly he stopped, staring at surprise at something ahead of him—a pale woman in a beautiful silver robe sitting by the road, seemingly impervious to the cold.

 _The Yukionna legend?_ Shinichi thought in surprise as he watched the familiar story play out; the woman handing over her robe, the man opening his pack to ask what she wanted, and she caressing him and demanding his warm, warm...

 _...Heart_.

 _Urgh... that’s_ way _too much fake blood_ , Shinichi thought as the man screamed horribly and the white screen turned almost entirely red. Ran and Sonoko were also screaming, like every other girl—and half of the guys—in the cinema, and Ran gripped his arm and turned away from the screen, into his shoulder, unable to watch the disgusting special effects. Sonoko was also cowering behind Kyogoku.

 _On second thought_ , Shinichi thought, patting Ran’s hand reassuringly, _This might not be so bad._

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“That was so beautiful!”

“I know! The love of a human man melted her heart and made saved her soul...”

“The ending was so sad, though, wasn’t it? Like _Romeo and Juliet_...”

“He died to be with her so they could be reborn together! I thought it was lovely! He’ll never leave her behind...” Both girls turned to glare daggers at Shinichi and Kyogoku.

“Well, as long as you two enjoyed it...” Kyogoku said politely. Shinichi rolled his neck, getting rid of the crick in it from sitting in the uncomfortable cinema chairs for two hours.

Kyogoku then turned to Shinichi. “I think she was mostly glaring at you there,” he said, a little jealously. “She wishes you were here with Mori-san more often.”

“So do I,” Shinichi muttered.

“Well, whenever she starts complaining about you, _I_ generally feel guilty and come back,” the karate master admitted, “so she _could_ just have been needling me...” he trailed off as Ran’s cellphone rang.

“Moshi moshi?” she said. Shinichi raised his eyebrows as her expression changed to one of absolute shock. “Oh no... I completely forgot! Oh, I’m so sorry... no... Cafe Poirot, right? No, we’ll be there soon, we’re not that far away... I’ll see you!” She hung up her phone and looked at Shinichi in panic.

“I completely spaced and forgot I was meant to meet Okaa-san and Otou-san for lunch!” she moaned. “Oh, I should have been there ten minutes ago... I can’t _believe_ I forgot about that... well, maybe I can,” she corrected herself, blushing a little.

“Do you mind if I come?” Shinichi asked. “I haven’t seen Occhan in ages, and I can’t remember the last time I saw Obasan...” _Lie_ , he thought guiltily. _I’m going to have to be_ really _careful around Eri-san..._

“No, that’d be great!” Ran said, brightening up. “We’d better run... I’ll see you later, Sonoko, Kyogoku-kun! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, you two!” Sonoko yelled after them as they started running. “Kudo-kun... don’t you _dare_ run from her again!”

 _Run... from Ran_? Shinichi thought, grabbing her hand and pulling her forwards as he ran for the crossing lights, _he_ leading _her_ instead of the other way around, as it so often was when he was Conan. _No... It’s not like that, Sonoko... I’d_ never _run from Ran... I_ do _want to be here... I_ want _to... but..._

_But..._

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“And she warned _me_ not to forget,” Kogoro grumbled, hanging up and putting his cell phone away.

“Is she coming?” Eri asked.

“Yeah, she said they’ll be here in a couple of minutes...” Kogoro trailed off, looking suddenly confused. “Wait a minute. What did she mean, ‘ _We’ll_ be there’?”

“Maybe she went out with her friends,” Eri suggested. “Didn’t you notice her leaving this morning?”

“Actually...” Kogoro admitted a little sheepishly, “She was gone when I woke up... just a note saying ‘ _I’m going out but I’ll be back for lunch. Yes, I was the one who set your alarm for eleven so you’d wake up in time. Dress nice and don’t forget to go!_ ’ Damn alarm really _did_ wake me up at eleven...”

“You were still _asleep_ then?” Eri said testily. “All-night Mahjongg again, was it? Kami, you can’t even control yourself long enough to be with your daughter on _Christmas morning_... no _wonder_ she took off with her friends...”

“Says the one who _left her behind_ ,” Kogoro growled as a new argument incited. “I suppose _running away_ is a good enough excuse to not be with your daughter on Christmas morning...”

“ _Running away_?” Eri screeched. “How dare you...” she trailed off, staring in some shock out of the window. “Goodness... is that Kudo-kun?”

Kogoro jerked around to stare out of the window. Sure enough, just stopping at the crossing lights across the road was Ran, hand-in-hand with...

“That damn detective brat,” he growled. “So _that’s_ who she was with?”

“He’s really grown,” Eri commented. “I’d forgotten how long it was since I last saw him. I thought he was his father for a second...”

The lights changed and Ran and Kudo started crossing the road. Kogoro couldn’t help feeling a little sad at the broad, happy smile on Ran’s face as she chatted to “that damn detective brat”.

_“Hey, ojisan.”_

_Kogoro glanced over at the door through the haze of his hangover. How long had it been since Eri had left? Empty bottles and cans were covering his desk and spilling onto the floor…_

_That Kudo kid was standing in the doorway, with Ran sleeping on his back, looking angry._

_“Since obasan left, shouldn’t_ you _be taking care of Ran, ojisan?” he said insolently._

_“When’d Ran leave?” he slurred. He’d thought she was in her room..._

_“You were too busy arguing to pay any attention to her?” the kid yelled angrily. “What kinda Otou-san are you?”_

_“Shut up, brat!” he yelled, standing up, knocking a dozen empty cans to the floor, the racket pounding at his head, and that damn kid just made it worse._

_“Neither of you paid any attention, did you?” Kudo yelled. “Too busy fighting to pay any attention to how sad and lonely Ran’s been? That’s it, until you sober up, Ran’s sleeping over at my house...”_

_“Hold it, brat!” Kogoro yelled, running over, nearly tripping but making it and snatching Ran from the kid’s back. “You ain’t kidnapping my daughter!”_

_“Then look after her!” Kudo yelled._

“That brat’s bringing her home again, huh?” Kogoro said sadly.

“What?” Eri said, glancing over at him.

“Nothing.”

The doorbell tinkled as Shinichi pushed it open, holding it for Ran to get through.

“Okaa-san!” she cried, waving as she ran over to them. “Otou-san! I’m so sorry I forgot, but Shinichi’s back for the day...”

“Long time no see, Occhan,” Kudo said, following her over. “It’s been forever, Obasan.”

“Goodness, but you _did_ shoot up, didn’t you?” Eri said, looking up at him. “I can’t believe how long it’s been... have a seat, have lunch with us.”

“Thank you,” he said, sitting across from Ran, next to Kogoro, who glared at him. “How’ve you two been?”

“They’ve been fighting less recently... I think...” Ran said, a little worriedly.

“Well, we haven’t really fought yet _today_ ,” Eri lied, smiling at their daughter. Kogoro sighed and waved at the waitress.

Amazingly, they _did_ manage to avoid fighting all through lunch—probably because they were mainly talking to Kudo, catching up, as it were. The brat was annoyingly vague about what kind of case, precisely, he was on, and kept steering the conversation away from that particular topic. They ended up talking together until two.

“Good grief, the time!” Eri said, looking at her watch. “I have to meet a client in a while... I’d better head for the station, I didn’t bring my car...”

“I’m going to the tracks, I’ll go with you,” Kogoro said, standing up with her to the shock of all, including him. He then turned to glare at Kudo. “And _you_ , brat—” he growled, but Kudo cut him off.

“Yeah, yeah, not staying out all night, not to try anything funny with her, overprotective father rant, blah blah blah,” he said. Ran blushed but laughed. “Don’t worry, Occhan— _I’m_ gonna look after her.”

Kogoro snorted but didn’t say any more. He got the distinct feeling that Kudo was remembering the same thing that he was.

“Thanks for coming and not killing each other!” Ran said as she waved them off, her and Kudo leaving in the opposite direction. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” Eri said. “Nice to see you, Kudo-kun!”

“Later, Occhan! Sayonara, Obasan!” Kudo called, then grabbed Ran’s hand and ran to the crossing before the lights changed.

“What’s with you today?” Eri said. “I can’t really remember you ever being this _un_ argumentative...”

“You _want_ to fight?” Kogoro said grumpily. “No... I was thinking about when you left, you know...”

Eri instantly bristled. “Listen, Anata—”

“I’m not gonna get at you about it!” Kogoro said defensively. “Because... well, I was just as bad as you in _that_ fight...”

“You’re admitting it?” Eri said with some shock.

“About _Ran_!” Kogoro said. “Did we _ever_ really think about Ran in that fight? By the time I’d sobered up from my post-breakup drinking spree, do you know where she was?”

“I...” Eri suddenly froze, looking horrified. “Do you know, I can’t remember where Ran was _at all_ the day I left... or during the fighting before it...”

“I had to drag her away from that brat,” Kogoro said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, indicating Kudo. “He said that she was gonna play with him until we stopped making her sad...”

Eri herself was looking sad now. “You get the feeling that he’s looked after her better than we have,” she said sadly. “Even now... I can’t remember the last time she smiled like that.”

“I know,” Kogoro said. “Hey, baka... weren’t you getting a train?” they’d walked straight past the station.

“Don’t _you_ call _me_ a baka!” Eri growled. Then she sighed, winding down, suddenly no longer feeling like an argument.

“Well... whatever,” Kogoro said. “Look after yourself, Eri.”

“You too, Anata,” she said tentatively, before turning and hurrying into the station. Kogoro watched her go with a dejected sigh.


	18. One Truth Prevails

“Watch out!”

Shinichi glanced up as he saw a ball soaring through the air from a football game taking place not too far away. They were cutting through Beika Park on their way to the skating rink. He leaned over to header the ball gently, knocking it to his feet where he juggled it for a minute before giving it a powerful kick that sent it straight in between the two piles of snow which were apparently serving as impromptu goals. The kick felt _great_ —he could pull off power like that without needing to rely on stupid _shoes_...

“Goal!” he sang happily as the players yelled.

Ran giggled. “Shinichi, _spectators_ aren’t allowed to score,” she laughed.

“Funny, I thought I just did,” he deadpanned in response.

“Oi, you— _Kudo_?”

“Yo, Nakamichi!” Shinichi called, waving to Teitan High’s Soccer Club Captain.

“Damn, dude, we thought you were dead!” Nakamichi said, waving for the game to pause as the soccer club members crowded around. 

“Not yet,” Shinichi said with a laugh.

“Guess you still play like a pro,” Aizawa said, whistling appreciatively as he ran over with ball. “You still ain’t joining the soccer club?”

“I’m only back for the day,” Shinichi said, to various groans of disappointment.

“Ah, but of _course_ he’d come back to visit his _wife_ ,” Nakamichi teased, turning Ran bright red and inciting mass laughter.

“Shut up, Nakamichi,” Shinichi said, although he could feel his own cheeks heating. “Jealous because you got rejected again?” The other guys laughed as Nakamichi gasped.

“Hey, Kudo, how’d you know he got shot down the other day?” one of the other guys asked. Shinichi gulped. Ran had been talking about it the other day, about how Nakamichi had asked one of her friends out and been rejected, but she’d been talking about it to _Conan_...

“You’re wearing your precious genuine Tokyo Spirits strip for a friendly game,” he said, pointing out the shirt that was visible under Nakamichi’s unbuttoned coat. “You wouldn’t do that unless you really feel like you need some luck, so something really unlucky must have happened, right? And since all you think about is football and girls—and you _never_ get depressed about football, even when you lose or injure yourself—you must have gotten rejected.”

“The Kudo brain strikes again, Nakamichi!” Aizawa jeered as the other guys burst out laughing. “No hope at all. Sure you don’t wanna hang around for a game, Kudo?”

“Nah, I’ve got my _date_ to attend to,” he joked, grabbing Ran’s hand and pulling her away, back along the path. “Have fun, and try not to lose the league _this_ year, huh?”

“Screw you, Kudo!” Nakamichi yelled, but, laughing and wolf-whistling with the others, returned to the game. Ran and Shinichi, by unspoken agreement, hurried along the path, away from the game.

“Those guys,” Shinichi chuckled, trying to lighten Ran’s embarrassment.

“Yeah, but...” Ran was still flushing, and only turned redder when she squeezed his hand. “Shinichi... what _are_ we, really? To each other? I mean, we’re still best friends and all, but sometimes, I don’t know...” Mostly out of sight of the game, she stopped and turned to face him. He was certain that their combined blushing must be melting the snow at their feet.

 _Oh, Kami,_ he thought, feeling his pulse speed up as though he was about to change, though he had three hours until that happened at least. _What’s she going to ask? Is she going to say... what is she... Kami..._

“Shinichi,” she said, her voice trembling a little, “I just need to know. Am I... any more to you than your best friend? I mean, if I’m misunderstanding, you can just laugh or something...” She was blushing too strongly now to look at him and looked away but, impulsively, he reached out and turned her face back to him.

“R-Ran, you’re...” he swallowed, trying to figure out how to say it. “You’re more important to me than... _anything_ , really. More than anything in this world... or any other... I-I thought... you knew that already.”

“Important... as in...?” she asked, sounding tentative but hopeful.

“I...” he began, but... _How do I finish that? I... don’t want to pull her down with me... If I told her, how could I not tell her everything? Crap..._ His thoughts were whirling, and as the silence drew out, to his surprise, Ran’s eyes hardened with some resolve. She grasped his hand with her other and pulled it away from her chin, leaning up on her toes. _What is she..?_

He realized a second before her lips touched his, warm, soft and so inviting, and then he couldn’t really think of much else. She was hesitant, as if still fearing that he was going to push her away. _How could she think... I’d ever push her away..._? he thought dazedly, leaning forwards to kiss her back. Slowly, he let go of one of her hands and reached his arm around her shoulders, holding her closer to him. Time seemed to spin away, and Shinichi forgot all about murderers, about Kid, about the antidote, thinking only about Ran, the warmth of her, her scent, the feel of her as he held her close, her...

“ _Fweet-fwooo!_ ”

“Awww, still not over the honeymoon passion?”

“I thought I told you to shut it, Nakamichi,” Shinichi yelled, letting go of Ran to make a _very_ rude gesture at the jeering footballers, which was completely offset by his uncontrollably broad grin. Ran burst out laughing.

“Remind me to call Kazuha-chan and thank her for the advice,” Ran giggled as they walked out of sight of the game, his arm around her shoulders and her arm around his waist.

“Tell her to take her own advice,” Shinichi laughed. “We Meitantei are _hopeless_ at recognizing our own feelings without a little push.” _Even_ Hattori _isn’t dense enough to misunderstand if she kisses him…_

“So, now that we’ve cleared the waters...” Ran asked, her cheeks only beginning to cool, “does that mean this is a date?”

“Sounds about right,” Shinichi said, squeezing her shoulders. “Funny thing... damn that case.”

“Huh?” Ran said, evidently confused.

“Well...” Shinichi admitted, “Remember _that_ trip to Tropical Land? The karate championship was... kind of a pretext. I’d wanted to take you there and show you the fountains for a while. I was going to tell you that I had more than a slight crush on you... of course, you completely freaked me out on the rollercoaster. That was why I was babbling so much.”

“Sorry,” Ran laughed. “I was _trying_ to freak you out, though. You _were_ going on endlessly about Holmes, and it was annoying, so I figured that it would be the best way to get you to shut up...”

“You’re a cruel woman,” Shinichi sighed dejectedly. “What would you have done if you _hadn’t_ cut me off before I’d said it?”

“Well... I suppose _I_ would have been the one speechless,” Ran said with a gentle smile. “But... I think, secretly... I wanted you to say it. I cut you off and pretended it was a joke because I got cold feet and was scared that you wouldn’t... Come to think of it, the only other time you’ve babbled quite like that was at that restaurant in the Beika Centre,” she added thoughtfully. “Remember? When that company president was shot in the head, and...” she turned her head to glare at him evilly, “... you took off to solve the case and _never came back_...”

“Sorry!” Shinichi said, waving his free hand hastily. “I tried to make it back, I really did, but the cops dragged me off for the post-investigation and then I got a call about an urgent lead... It was lucky I ran into the kid on the way out... I felt like crap for _days_ after leaving you like that. Conan called me afterwards, come to that. He was pretty pissed at me. The kid’s really attached to you, you know.”

“He’s very sweet,” Ran said with a sad little smile. “He always tries to cheer me up, when I’ve been lonely, or I’ve missed you... Kinda lucky that he turned up the day you disappeared, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” Shinichi laughed weakly. _Define “lucky”... “Abundance of luck”... what_ kind _of luck?_

“He stayed and finished dinner with me,” Ran reminisced. “The waitress looked really disappointed. After you’d left, she told me about this legendary couple that had sat at the same table twenty years before... she said the guy left in the middle, just like you did, to solve a murder. But _he_ came back...” return of the evil eyes, “... and he was so flustered about having left that he just shouted for the whole room to hear!”

“He shouted a proposal, didn’t he?” Shinichi chuckled. “And she accepted. So the waitress thought I was going to propose?”

“Yeah! Hey... how’d you know about the couple?” Ran said, staring at him calculatingly. “Did you hear it from one of the police officers or something?”

“No, I heard it from the source,” Shinichi said, grinning a little nervously as he let the story unfold. “The young man in question was named Kudo Yuusaku.”

“Kudo Yuu—? Those two were your _parents_?!” Ran squeaked in surprise. “Wait—were you really—is that why you—?”

“I-I wasn’t going to _propose_ , as such,” Shinichi said with a violent blush, cutting off her stuttering. “I just wanted to take the chance... before I had to leave... to tell you that you were most important to me, and that I’d _definitely_ come back for you, no matter what. I was _kicking_ myself for getting too nervous to say it before I had to leave, and was determined not to let it happen this time...”

“And yet, _I_ made the first move,” Ran said with mock anger. “You think too much, Shinichi. You wanted to find the perfect moment, didn’t you?”

“Women are mind-readers,” Shinichi muttered irritably.

Ran laughed. “I just know you,” she replied. “Shinichi... telling someone that they’re what’s most important to you _makes_ it a perfect moment.”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling again. “...I guess moments don’t get much more perfect than that, huh?”

“But...” she sighed, growing sad. “It can’t last, can it? You’ll have to leave again soon, for the case... leave _again_...”

“But I’ll be back,” he said firmly. “I’ll _always_ come back, no matter what. I promise... once I finish this case, I’ll be back for good, and then... we can make that perfect moment last forever. I promise.” Suddenly, he grinned and spun around, stopping so that he was face-to-face with her and went down on one knee, holding up her hand. “’Tis a promise I made long ago, and one I carry forever in my heart,” he said, hamming it up as much as he could. Ran laughed but replied with the next line of the play.

“Then, my knight,” she said between the giggles, “If you have not forgotten our childhood promise, then please... seal it with a kiss upon my lips...”

They even followed the stage directions. To the letter.

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“Do you think we’ll be able to stay for the firework display?” Ran asked as she tied on her skates. “I never got to see it the last time I was here. Someone got murdered in the restroom, so we were kind of busy...”

“Geez,” Shinichi said, standing and pulling her to her feet. “Maybe I really _should_ borrow the PA system...”

“Let’s just try not to hang out with anybody we’ve never met before,” Ran joked. “Especially not if one of them has volatile and/or secret relationships with several of the others.”

“But we have murder already, so maybe you hang out with us, yes?”

Shinichi nearly slipped backwards onto the ice when he heard the strongly-accented, badly fractured and very familiar Japanese.

“Is that Madeline-san?” Ran said in happy surprise. “Oh, wow! How have you all been doing, since...?”

“Fine, fine, We all fine and alive still,” Alan said as the crowd of Scots skated over to greet them.

Bets wolf-whistled. “Oooooh, who he? Boyfriend?” she asked, grinning lecherously. “Share!”

 “Oh, you’ve not met everybody yet, have you?” Ran said to Shinichi. “We met them the other day, when we were looking into a murder case. They’re from Scotland... jeez, there’s still so many of you...” Ran went around and introduced everybody to Shinichi, who pretended to have never met any of them before. The few she didn’t know were introduced by Patrick, who spoke Japanese fairly well. There was a very short blond man named Dillon and a slim girl with curly brown hair called Kara. As Patrick had explained, some of their friends hadn’t been able to take a long period of time off until the Christmas break, which was why they’d turned up now.

“It’s nice to have more people around, anyway,” he explained.

“Yeah, to get over murder thing,” Sam added.

“Oi, where they?” Robert said. “You know, you cousin and—hey, there they are...”

Shinichi had to cover his mouth to stop himself from bursting out laughing. Ran jabbed him in the ribs, but her cheek was also twitching. A very white-faced Angela was being towed over by Rose and Hannah, with Charles skating alongside, laughing, hand-in-hand with an absolutely gorgeous, slender, tanned girl with short blonde hair.

“ **So there’s something King Andy can’t do?** ” he teased.

Angela glared daggers at him. “ **Shut it, Queen Chaz,** ” she snapped. “ **I hate ice and ice hates me...** ” she reached the edge, gripping the waist-height railing around the edge of the rink like a lifebelt. “ **I’m never going to learn to do this. Give up on me and save yourselves.** ”

“ **Come _on_ , Angie,**” the blonde said. “ **It’s not _that_ hard...** ”

“ **Hey, is that** Ran-san?” Hannah said, suddenly noticing them. Kirsteen was with her, her black hair gelled up into a supernova that made her look like the back of her head had exploded. Angela also had her hair tied back in a low ponytail over one shoulder. It struck Shinichi that he’d only seen the Scots in their “first thing in the morning” look, reeling over the death of their friend, but now that they were dressed up for going out, they had some of the most varied and unique outfits he’d ever seen, from Ruaridh’s brown felt hat perched oddly on his head, to Sam’s jacket bedecked with _far_ too many zips, to Angela’s thick layered gypsy skirt and long brown trenchcoat coat and Rose’s striped top that was surely _far_ too low cut for this cold weather.

 _Where do they get that stuff?_ he wondered, staring at Patrick’s top hat as the gorgeous blonde was introduced as Patrick and Angela’s cousin Charles’ girlfriend, their long-time friend Carly.

“ **Geez, did you bring your entire _country_?** ” Shinichi said, in English, once the introductions were over.

“ **Oi!** ” Carly said irritably. “We... America!”

“ _We are American!_ ” Angela reprimanded, sounding considerably more confident now that she had negotiated her way onto solid ground. “ **or** , ‘we are from America’. **You just said you _are_ the country, not that you’re from it.** ”

“ **Hey,** ” Jonathan asked. “ **Are you _that_ ** Kudo Shinichi **? The high-school detective?** ”

“ **Oh, yeah!** ” Angela said. “ **Hey, I saw you on TV—well, not TV really, YouTube, but whatever—on the Clock Tower Case in** Haido-Chome! **You nearly _caught_ the _Kaitou Kid_!** ”

“ **Whoa, _seriously_?** ” Hannah said. “ **That’s _amazing_!** ”

“ **But the newspapers said you were _dead_ ,**” Shaun said accusingly, as if Shinichi was about to turn out to be a zombie or something.

“ **Nah, maybe he’s on a top-secret assignment,** ” Sam said, striking what was probably supposed to be an action pose. “ **Like James Bond or something! What’s the Japanese equivalent of the FBI or MI6 or whatever, anyway?** ”

 _We just borrow the FBI..._ Shinichi thought, then yelped when Rose suddenly shot over and stared him in the face.

“Uhhh... Rose-san, **right?** ” he asked, a little nervously. “Ummm... **C-can I help you?** ”

She stared at him unnervingly for another long moment before breaking into a warm smile, rather like she had when staring down “Conan-kun” at the case.

“ **Nothing,** ” she said, idly skating past him in an attempt to pull Angela back onto the ice, “ **But...** Arigatou Gozaimasu, Meitantei.”

“Wh-what?!” he said, but she had already gone. Shinichi gulped and turned back to join in Ran’s happy bilingual conversation with the foreigners. Rose leaned over to whisper to Angela, and they shared a secretive smile.


	19. Promises

“That was a lot of fun!” Ran said happily as they made their way through the dark streets. “Even if they _are_ a little... overwhelming...”

Shinichi just sighed in exhaustion. _That freaky Wiccan girl kept staring at me_ all evening _..._

 They’d ended up skating with the Scots—except for Angela, who managed to be the only one to fall flat on her face and burst her nose, at which point she left to get a bandage from the medical department and ended up watching them skate from the side of the rink—until the fireworks started. Just after they’d ended, Shinichi had had to slip aside when his phone rang and the number listed was the Professor’s.

“ _Where the hell are you?” Ai said testily through the phone. “You were supposed to come back here in case you changed!”_

 _“I was kinda busy,” Shinichi said. Truth be told, by the time he’d noticed it was past seven—the dreaded twenty-four-hour mark—it was really too late to get away. However, after he’d realized the time and survived the mild heart attack of fear, he’d still elected to stay. “There’s no sign of the fever, which always appears between fifteen minutes and half an hour before the pains, which generally last about twenty minutes if I’m resisting them. If I’d started to get the fever, it would have been particularly noticeable in this cold weather, but there’s nothing. I’m impressed,_ Sherry. _It looks like I’ve got until seven-thirty tomorrow morning at the earliest.”_

 _“Well, do try to come home_ before _that, all right?” Ai said. “Research aside, you can’t really be planning to spend all_ night _with her, can you?_ ”

“Oi!” _Shinichi yelped, turning so red that he was worried that he might be getting the fever after all, but Haibara had already hung up, only the quiet huff still being transmitted along the line._

_“Shinichi? What’s wrong?” Ran asked, looking deeply worried. “It’s not... the case, is it? Are you going to have to leave?”_

_“N-not until tomorrow evening, I hope,” Shinichi said, quickly putting his phone away. “But I may have to leave in the morning. Either way, I’ll call and let you know in the morning, all right?”_

_“Sure...” Ran said, still looking a little upset._

They’d left after that to have dinner together at a nearby Sushi restaurant, separate from the Scots who were going to skate for a few more hours, and had waved them off with a rousing if inexplicable cry of “ **For the Fire! For the Cult! FOR SANTA!** ” _The_ case wasn’t mentioned throughout dinner, although other cases were, after Ran phoned Kazuha to wish her a Merry Christmas. Shinichi had been relaying their orders to the waitress at the time, so he didn’t hear quite what Ran said, but the amount of squealing he could hear over the phone afterwards worried him. Still, Heiji’s silent shock when Shinichi called “Merry Christmas” to the Osaka pair over the phone—coupled with Kazuha’s dangerous-sounding “ _Finally_!”—was very amusing, although Ran clearly didn’t get the joke.

The streets were already dark by the time they got out, and Beika Park, which the crossed through again to get home, was completely empty, which had led to a few more stops for secretive kisses, less hesitant and nervous each time. Each time, Shinichi felt, was magical; like a precious dream from which he would, all too soon, have to awaken. Being with Ran, _with_ her, as a _couple_ , not “just friends”; it seemed too good to be true. At least until some poor passerby stumbled across them, prompting all parties to be on their way again with red faces as fast as possible.

_The feel of her soft hair twining through her fingers, still scented sweetly with whatever had been in her conditioner, the warmth of her body moulding against his as they kissed, closer, deeper, his arms so tight around her and he never wanted to let go..._

But it couldn’t last. Maybe he had two more days, maybe he had one, maybe he had less, but he _would_ return to Conan, and once more, he’d been so close to her, but so very, very distant...

Below his happy chatter and banter with Ran, however, he was growing severely worried. It had been a perfect day. No-one had been killed, kidnapped or robbed in his immediate vicinity. He and Ran were _together_. The antidote had even held long enough for him to spend the entire day with Ran.

Something had to give.

“The lights are on,” Ran noted in surprise as the Mori Detective Agency became visible down the road.

“Occhan’s probably leaning out of the window with a telescope to watch for you,” Shinichi said. “No helping it, it _is_ past nine already...”

“Oh, he’s going to interrogate me for _ages_ ,” Ran groaned. Their pace slowed, just in case Kogoro really _was_ watching for them with a telescope. “So... are you going home?”

“For tonight, yeah,” Shinichi sighed. “Kaa-san’s ecstatic. Whether I’m here or not in the morning... well, I’ll call and let you know either way, all right?”

Ran nodded “I wish you didn’t have to leave,” she whispered. “I wish you could stay here forever...”

“Me too, Ran,” he said, his voice oddly choked, “me too. But someday I will be—you can count on that.”

“I know,” she whimpered. To Shinichi’s horror, her eyes were welling up. “I’m just... I _miss_ you, so much...”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to return to you, Ran,” he promised, reaching up to wipe away her tears. “On the day it’s all over... when I’m back for good... we’ll go out for dinner again. To the Bird’s Eye View restaurant.” He leaned closer to her, closer enough to feel her warm breath.

“Tou-san shared that place with the person most precious to him at the moment most precious to him,” he whispered, “and someday, I will too.”

Ran’s breath caught, and then she leaned forward, kissing him softly, a final kiss goodnight.

“I’ll be waiting,” she whispered, before turning and walking towards the agency. Shinichi could swear he saw one of the windows slide closed as she entered the stairwell. He watched the agency for another long moment— _home again, in a couple of days_ —before turning his back and walking back to 2-21 Beika which was home again, just for tonight.

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As Shinichi closed the gate of his house behind him, an engine revved in the night.

 _I know he must be happy to be back, but really, what_ was _the little idiot thinking? Walking around in broad daylight? He got lucky, but he’d better not be trying it twice..._

A quick look at the mini-laptop, a glance at the cookie tracer program, and the confirmation that Kudo Shinichi wasn’t the _only_ idiot teenager needing watching. _Sooner or later—probably sooner—they’re going to notice the correlations between the information this kid’s been looking up. He’s lucky they’re not already watching him, or he’d be dead already... might need to watch that, even so..._

It was a long, difficult job, but it needed doing, but when the time came, the pieces needed to be in place. For the black king to be taken, the white knights needed to be within his reach...

And for that sake, who cared about a few pawns?

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“Well, aren’t _we_ late back,” Yukiko teased as Shinichi didn’t manage to sneak in under her radar. “What were you and Ran-chan doing out so late, I wonder?”

“Come on, Kaa-san,” Shinichi moaned.

“You’re an only child, Shin-chan,” Yukiko said pseudo-seriously. “ _Someone_ has to bedevil you over your love life.” Her eyes widened when he blushed. “Oh-ho... you’re not correcting me... no ‘barou, it’s not like that’ or ‘it wasn’t a date’... Could this mean...?”

“I’m gonna cut my losses and admit early that yeah, Ran and I cleared a few things up,” Shinichi said, going even deeper red as he did so and trying to slip past his mother. Yukiko squealed loud enough to draw Yuusaku in from the living room, coincidentally moving to block off Shinichi’s escape route.

“ _Finally_!” she squealed. “I _knew_ it! I _told_ you Ran-chan was destined to be our daughter-in-law, didn’t I, Yuu-chan?”

“Geez, I didn’t _propose_ or anything,” Shinichi grumbled.

“Although, from your tone, I’d deduce that it _is_ in the offing,” Yuusaku said with an amused chuckle. Shinichi was saved from remonstrating by a loud yawn.

“Goodness, you didn’t sleep at all last night, did you?” Yukiko said, leaning over to poke at the slight bags under his eyes. “ _Really_ , Shin-chan! As if your body’s not under enough stress as it is! Go get some sleep, right now—in your _own_ bed. Won’t that be nice?”

“Yeah, actually,” Shinichi said, unable to repress a grin. “Man, a night’s sleep without having to deal with Occhan’s snoring—this is gonna be great.”

“If Kogoro-kun heard you say that, I think he’d thump you no matter what size you are,” Yuusaku said. “Oh, that reminds me. Before you pass out...” he retreated to the living room and returned with a syringe.

“Haibara-kun asked me a favour for when you got back,” he explained. Shinichi sighed and rolled up his sleeve.

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“What time of night do you call this?” Kogoro grumbled.

“About ten,” Ran said as she locked the apartment door behind her.

“Out pretty late, weren’t you?” Kogoro said seriously. Ran stared at him for a long moment before breaking down in giggles. “What’s so funny?” Kogoro demanded, losing some of his fatherly seriousness in the confusion.

“Oh, it’s just...” Ran fluttered her hand as she fought to control the laughter. “It’s just... normally _I’m_ saying that, after you got back from Mahjongg or whatever... it’s really weird... this has to be the first time it’s the _right_ way around...” She broke down laughing again, making her way to her room as she went.

“Oi!” Kogoro said, trying to regain some sort of parental authority, but it wasn’t the mode he was used to and so was completely lost on his daughter.

“Goodnight, Otou-san,” Ran called as she closed her bedroom door. “Merry Christmas!”

Ran kept grinning as she shut the bedroom door behind her and leaned on it, still giggling. _Really,_ she thought. _First time in a while that he acts really..._ fatherly... _is when I’m out with Shinichi..._ _Come to think of it... it was like that back then, too... wasn’t it...?_

_When she woke up, she couldn’t really remember what had happened. Was it Sunday? Or was it a school day? The apartment was very quiet. Had her parents stopped arguing...?_

_She gasped and started crying when she remembered. Oh, they’d stopped fighting all right. Her father had locked himself in the bathroom and her mother had locked herself in her parents’ room, the fighting replaced by a horrible silence. Eventually, the first one to come out had been Eri—suitcase in hand._

_“Okaa-san? Where are you going?”_

_“Ran-chan, I’m sorry, but I can’t stay here anymore.” Eri crouched down, looking Ran in the eye. “I can’t keep fighting with_ him _like this. I need to go away for a while. Ran? Won’t you come with me? I’m sure it won’t be for long...”_

 _“Wh-what?” Ran said in confusion. “No! I can’t leave, and you can’t either! This is_ home _! We can’t go...”_

_... Because going would mean leaving her home and school behind her, wouldn’t it? And her friends... Sonoko-chan... Shinichi..._

_“Don’t go, Okaa-san! Please! I’ll be good! Don’t go!”_

_“It’s not your fault, Ran-chan,” Eri said, standing again and picking up her suitcase with grim determination. “Well, if you want to stay with_ him...”

“ _Wait!” Ran cried again, starting to sob as her mother made for the door. She ran to the bathroom door, knocking on it, pounding it with her tiny fists._

_“Otou-san! Okaa-san’s leaving!” she sobbed. “Please come out, Otou-san! Make her stay, please! Don’t let her leave!”_

_But there was no response from within, and when she looked back, her mother had vanished. Panicked, she ran down the stairs, tripping a little as she stepped into her sandals as she ran. She could see the street, where her mother was putting her suitcase in the boot of a taxi._

_“Okaa-san! Don’t go! Please come back,_ please _!”_

_Eri looked back for a moment as she got into the taxi, tears filling her eyes as she forced a little smile and waved back at her daughter._

_“It might not be for long,” she promised, before closing the door and sitting back as the taxi revved up and moved away._

_“_ Okaa-san! _” Ran screamed, running after the taxi, even though it was useless. The taxi was slowed by Tokyo traffic, but not by much, and seven-year-old legs just couldn’t keep up with a moving car. She kept running, gasping as her lungs burned for air, even long after the taxi had disappeared from sight._

_“Ran? Ran, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”_

_Through the mist of her tears, Ran looked up into Shinichi’s worried face._

_“O-okaa-san...” she said, gulping out sobs. “She left... she left in a taxi, and took all her things... She’s gone and I-I don’t know when she’s c-coming back... I t-tried to follow the taxi, b-but I l-l-lost it...” Bursting into loud wails, she flung her arms around Shinichi and sobbed into his shoulder. She barely registered it when he hugged her back, but somehow, she felt better, just a little._

_If he hadn’t been there for me... that day..._ Ran thought, sitting on her bed, picking up the delicate red orchid with a couple of fingers and examining it closely, _I wonder if I’d ever have stopped crying... I didn’t think I was ever going to smile or laugh again, but he managed it, somehow... I first recognized my feelings that day in New York, but I wonder how long ago it really was... that Shinichi became more important to me than anyone else... How long ago I... fell in love with him..._

Even though she was alone in her room, she blushed at the thought, but the moment she’d had it, she knew that it was true: his presence made her heart soar and his absence made it ache; he was always there when she needed him, as if he was protecting her; she just couldn’t imagine any sort of future for herself not involving him. And that meant...

She pulled a small stack of Print Club stickers out of her purse, flicking through the images for one that Shinichi had only agreed to under protest and violent blushing, one of the few pictures for two people; specifically, it depicted them as a couple sitting side-by-side in traditional Japanese wedding garb. Ran looked at it for a moment with a reminiscent blush and hopeful smile, before peeling it off and sticking it to the inside back cover of her diary.

 _He said... when he gets back forever, we’ll go back to the Bird’s Eye Restaurant like his parents did..._ exactly _like his parents did..._ she remembered, staring out of the window at the dark night and the greying remains of the snow. _Come back soon, Shinichi,_ she prayed. _I’ll be waiting, so please return soon..._

As she was getting into her pyjamas, she remembered to close the diary before her father saw the sticker. _But no matter how much I love him,_ she warned herself sternly, _I will never,_ never _be so far gone as to write “Kudo Ran” on my notebooks. Never, never, never..._


	20. A Peaceful Day

“Oh, but it’s wonderful that Kudo-kun’s back, ain’t it?” Kazuha sighed as she hung up.

“Uh... yeah,” Heiji said, still getting over the shellshock of randomly hearing Kudo’s voice—Kudo’s _real_ voice—calling “Merry Christmas!” into Ran’s phone. _He must be tryin’ out one’ve them short-term cures,_ he thought. _Guess it’s good he’s gettin’ ta spend it with Mori... speakin’ of which..._

“Oi, what was with the squealin’?” he asked as they stepped aside to let a car past. They’d run into each other in town and were heading back to hang out at his house, and in the residential areas the streets were pretty tight. “I mean, I though ya were gonna summon bats or somethin’.”

“Oh, didn’t you hear?” Kazuha giggled. “Kudo-kun and Ran-chan ain’t just hanging out for the day... they’re on a _date_. As in, as a _couple_.”

“Seriously?” Heiji said in surprise. _He finally got the guts up ta tell ‘er? Well, guess he knows there’s no guarantee that this ain’t gonna be the last time he’s back ta normal..._ “So what about the second loada squealin’?”

“Well,” Kazuha said with an evil grin, “I asked her if, if it was a date, had she _kissed_ ‘im yet, and, well, ya could basically _hear_ the blushin’...”

“Holy cow,” Heiji said, whistling slowly. “Well, ’bout time, I guess.”

“Ain’t it just _wonderful_ , though?” Kazuha sighed. “They’re finally _together_ , after _forever_...”

“Uh... yeah...” Heiji said, feeling unaccountably nervous. _Spendin’ Christmas with the person he cares about, huh..?_

“Ah, here we are!” Kazuha said, opening his front door and striding in. “Obachan! Ojichan! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Kazuha-chan!” Shizuka called. From the sound of it, she was in the kitchen, by the phone.

“Oh, hold on a mo, Heiji!” Kazuha said, stopping to dig into her bag. “I know it’s kinda unnecessary, but I saw this an’ totally thoughta Obachan... good price, too... check it out!” It was a black fan with red butterfly detailing, like a mix between a war fan and a woman’s fan. _Yep,_ he thought, as Kazuha scurried down the hall to give the Christmas present, _Kaa-chan all over..._

“I got somethin’ for you, too,” Kazuha said as she joined him going up the stairs, “But I couldn’t get it out without gettin’ obachan’s present out... wait a minute... here! Merry Christmas!”

It was a baseball cap, but a _proper_ baseball cap, one that was actually _about_ baseball; specifically, it was a batter’s cap, and on the back, where the player’s name would be, was the kanji for his name. Heiji took off the cap he was already wearing and pulled the new one on, tugging the buckle a little to make it fit, but it was already set at pretty much the right size.

“Brilliant!” He said, tugging the peak before digging through one of his desk drawers. “Hey, thanks a bunch, Kazuha. I got somethin’ for ya as well. It’s ‘round here somewhere... Might be kinda girly for ya, though...”

“Ex _cuse_ me?” Kazuha demanded, her tone clearly indicating that she was glaring daggers at him. Heiji ignored her, finally pulling out the little gift bag. “Here ya go. Merry Christmas!”

Kazuha dug into the bag excitedly, like a little kid. Her eyes widened as she pulled out the beautiful classical-style hairpin, painted gold with red and pink sakura detailing.

“Wow, that’s _beautiful_!” she said, happily, holding it up to the light. “Geez, what’d this cost ya?”

“Ah, it wasn’t too much,” Heiji said dismissively. “Ya like it?”

“Love it!” Kazuha said happily, wrapping it in the bag and carefully stowing it into her bag so it wouldn’t be damaged. “Thanks!” She suddenly looked pensive for a moment. “Hey... Heiji?”

“Whassup?” Heiji said, but before she could answer, his mobile rang. He held up a hand for a moment as he answered it. “Yo?”

“ _Hei-chan. Merry Christmas_.”

“Merry Christmas, Otaki-han. What’s up?”

“ _The... sensitive information that you were asking after just got here. Thought you ought to know so you can pick it up the next time you’re at the station._ ”

“Hey, thanks a ton. I’ll do that tomorrow or th’ day after.”

“ _Hei-chan... there’s been a few... strange... correlations between the information you were asking for..._ ”

“I know. That’s why I was askin’ for it. Remember ta keep this on the hush, all right?”

“ _All right, Hei-chan. Look after yourself. Wish Kazuha-chan a Merry Christmas for me._ ”

 _How’d he know she was here?_ Heiji thought with a shrug as he hung up. “Otaki-han says Merry Christmas,” he said to Kazuha.

“Cool,” she replied with a grin.

“So what where ya wantin’ ta ask me about?” he asked.

Kazuha suddenly flushed, then shook her head rapidly. “Nah, it’s all right,” she insisted. “It can wait.”

Heiji narrowed his eyes, but just shrugged.

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Shinichi stared at his ceiling for a long time after waking up. It was _his_ ceiling, much closer to him than it was with his kiddy body, faint dark marks all over it where he’d bounced a football off of it when trying to do keepie-uppies on rainy days. For a few minutes, he could pretend that it had all been a horrible nightmare; he’d had a good time at Tropical Land with Ran yesterday, murders aside, and then he’d come home and had a horrible nightmare, that was all...

But two and a half years ago, that nightmare had been _real._ He had burned, and then he had run home—well, _staggered_ , eventually, after his kiddy body had so quickly run out of energy—in the cold and the rain, getting soaked and muddy, tearing his palms and knees open as he tripped over his baggy, oversized jeans...

He finally sat up, staring around his room. He’d only really slept here one night since _that_ day at Tropical Land, and thanks to the antidote, he’d just passed out entirely. His mother hadn’t tidied up his room, beyond probably reshelving a few books that he would have left lying around or tidying away some clothes that he hadn’t bothered to. His computer had a thick padding of dust between the keys, untouched for over two years and as such badly outdated. His book bag still lay half-open on his desk, tenth-grade textbooks and notebooks spilling out of it, including a trigonometry sheet that had been due for the next day. Still, it had looked a cinch, so he’d figured that he’d do it once he got home...

The room felt stale; it was the clear image of a life frozen, as if it was waiting for him to return for real. He sat on the sheets, which had set stiff during his long absence and hadn’t entirely softened up yet from a single night’s sleep. On his bedside table was an old photo, from the day he and Ran had started high school; crouching on one of the nearby grassy banks of the Teimizu, wearing their new Teitan uniforms and smiles, still just best friends, still together, with forever ahead of them, no strange drugs, no mysterious jewels, no men in black looming up between them in a sneering dark wall...

 _My life_ , he thought, staring at the picture, at his own oblivious smile. _Those bastards stole my_ life _... and, dammit, I want it back..._

He looked at his clock. Unfortunately, there must have been a brief power outage at some point during his absence, because it was flashing _11:38_. He dug out his watch and set the digital clock back to the correct time, which happened to be seven thirty AM. Remembering his promise, he reached for his mobile, remembering that Ran was an early riser. She picked up after only a couple of rings.

“ _Moshi moshi,_ ” she greeted, a little sleepily.

“Ohayou, Ran,” he said. “I promised I’d call. Looks like I’m still going to be in all day... until about late afternoon, I guess.”

“ _Oh, that’s brilliant! Do you want to meet up? About half-eight?_ ”

“Sounds good,” he agreed. “Do you want to go anywhere in particular?”

“ _Well, there’s a new arcade in Shibuya...”_

“I’ll meet you at the station at half-eight, then?” he suggested.

“ _Is there nowhere you really want to go?_ ”

“Anywhere with you,” he said with a private grin.

She giggled. “ _Wow, I’m still not used to this,_ ” she admitted. “ _It’s a little weird to think that we’ll actually be out together, but as a_ couple... _but good weird, you know?_ ”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Can’t wait to get used to it...”

“ _Well, how about we work on that today?_ ” Ran suggested.

“Looking forward to it,” Shinichi agreed with a grin. “I’ll see you then!”

As he hung up, he could already feel his spirits lifting. He still had today with Ran—or most of it, probably—and once this was all over, they’d have forever. No matter what happened next.

_’Cause it’s going to happen to the Organization if I have anything to do with it..._

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“Wow, this place is packed,” Shinichi said as they picked their way through the crowds filling the arcade.

“They have all of the newest games,” Ran said, “As well as a few classics that no other arcade has anymore.” Shinichi nodded as they passed a long line forming behind a couple of old _Mario Kart_ units. “Um, let’s see... _not_ Virtua Fighter Pro...”

“Why?” Shinichi asked inquisitively. _Of course,_ Ran thought, _I don’t think I ever told him about that one, did I...?_

Having Shinichi around two days in a row was wonderful; him finally being her boyfriend—it was so weird to think of like that, though, as if no label really fit him except just “Shinichi”—was downright magical. Ran couldn’t think of the last time she’d ever been this happy. He was grinning broadly as well, not being as distant and generally out of it as he normally was when he returned, and there was no sign of his mysterious but violent illness either. Still, Ran couldn’t help but feel that he was acting a little strangely today; he kept subtly glancing around, as if scanning the area for a danger, and seeming awfully self-conscious about being out in the open, suddenly preferring crowds. It was like he thought something was stalking him, something that would seem like paranoia if it wasn’t Shinichi—after all, it’s not paranoia if they really _are_ out to get you, and Shinichi was the one person whom she could envision in that scenario.

 _Or_ you’re _the one being paranoid,_ she chided herself as, aloud, she finished explaining the case. _Just enjoy him being here._

“Hey, look,” Shinichi said, indicating a large wallscreen above two player pods labelled “ _Mystical Warrior: Double Damage_.” The pods were entirely enclosed, but the screen was showing the two characters—a female warrior and a wizard—presumably being controlled by the players within fighting a gigantic youkai-king type figure. They were winning, too, judging by the red health bar on the boss and the green and yellow bars above the respective player’s heads. A crowd of people were watching the battle avidly, since—as Ran judged from their conversations—the two in the pods had been in for a good forty-five minutes and this was the final of ten bosses in the game. With a blast of light, the wizard knocked the king down, and a split second later, before the monster could right itself, the female warrior landed a devastating kick on the glowing red tail that was presumably the youkai’s sole weak point, finishing a devastating one-two whammy.

“It looks like the game is two-player only,” Shinichi observed. “And since the pods are separate, and the players don’t seem to be able to communicate, I guess you’d need a really close team to win this...”

“Yeah, you need to plan out all your strategies beforehand,” an otaku next to them explained. “It’s real tough since you don’t get to confer in between battles, so you’ve gotta plan out all ten in advance or have a real good feel for each other’s playing style... This thing’s only been out a week, you know, so these two’ve gotta be real close players. Whoa! What a combo!” The female warrior had thrown a sword, and the wizard had thrown a magic blast at it, creating, as the otaku loudly proclaimed, “a spear of pure PWNage.” A second later, fireworks burst all over the screen and the player pods lit up, the scoreboard proclaiming the players to have been the first two to have won the game. The massed otaku started cheering.

“Wow,” Ran said softly. “What a team...” she giggled as she linked fingers with him. “I wonder if we could do that?”

“I don’t know about games, but I’m fairly certain we could kick anyone’s ass in real life,” Shinichi laughed as the players entered their names into the scoreboard as _Sapphire_ and _Ace_. “If they get past your karate, they’re getting a football to the back of the head.”

“Yeah, since you’re _terrible_ at hand-to-hand, except dodging...” Ran teased, and then abruptly stopped, her eyes widening as she saw the two teenagers who’d gotten out of the player pods, the guy trying to pry the girl off of him when she hugged him happily.

“Aoko-chan!” she cried in surprise. “Kuroba-kun! Wow, that was _you_?”

“Ran-chan?!” Aoko squealed, clearly still very hyped up. She pushed her way through the otaku that were fighting for the pods, dragging Kaito behind her by the arm. “Wow, small world! Nice to see you agai—oh, is _this_ the famous Kudo Shinichi? Geez, you guys _are_ twins...”

Ran giggled as Shinichi and Kaito stared at each other with mirror images of shock on their faces. The startling resemblance between the two was even more noticeable now that the two were face-to-face. Shinichi’s hair was marginally darker in colour, Kaito’s a touch longer and a _lot_ more unruly, but Ran would swear that there wasn’t an inch of difference in their height or weight, and even their eyes were the precise same shade of sapphire blue. Ran wondered if they were distant relatives of some sort and just didn’t know it—after all, Shinichi and Conan were distant cousins, and the resemblance between _them_ was uncanny as well.

“Um... nice to meet you?” Shinichi said, looking more than a little freaked out.

“Oh, that’s right, you guys haven’t met yet, have you?” she said. “All right- Shinichi, this is Nakamori Aoko-chan and Kuroba Kaito-kun. Aoko-chan, Kaito-kun, this is Kudo Shinichi.”

“Nakamori,” Shinichi said thoughtfully. “Are you related to that blowhard—”

“ _Nakamori-keibu_ is my Otou-san,” Aoko said sharply, automatically thwapping Kaito as he let out an inadvertent hoot of laughter. Then she too looked thoughtful, and suddenly grinned. “Hold on, were you that high-school tantei that nearly caught the Kaitou Kid at the Clock Tower? Otou-san wasn’t very happy about you butting in—he ranted _forever_ —but I thought it was so cool that you nearly got him! Where’ve you _been_ since? I bet you could’ve thrown him in jail by now!”

“Well, I’ve had a rather larger case than a petty thief to deal with,” Shinichi replied, “but I can assure you, one day I _will_ find him.” His gaze roamed over Kaito for a moment. “Come to that... are you related to Kuroba Toichi? The famous magician? He was a friend of Kaa-san’s, I think...”

“Yeah, I met your Okaa-san in Osaka,” Kaito said, “and your Otou-san. They said we met when we were little, though _I_ sure don’t remember it. Small world, huh?”

“Tell me about it,” Shinichi muttered cryptically.


	21. Small World

_Small world indeed,_ she mused, taking a sip of her soda as she covertly watched the four teenagers. This _was_ an unexpected surprise, but with both of them together she had been certain that their combined luck would result in Gin developing an inexplicable fondness for video games. No such luck, thank goodness. In fact, the two were happily playing their girlfriends and each other at the games, each pretending, for a while, like they were normal kids with normal lives, each pretending like he didn’t know that the other was his mortal enemy.

 _It must be nice to be young,_ she thought with a slight smile. _When you’re young and in love, it’s so easy to put pain and fear out of your mind... so easy to heal... so easy to look forward, when you still have so much to look forward to. Even these children, who have suffered more in a few short years than many do in their lives..._

She checked her watch, her sharp eyes catching the early warning signs. _It is lucky that the young heal well... especially when there is so much more still to come..._

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_First I got shrunk by a strange drug. Then I found out that I’m inadvertently the primary test subject on the elixir of immortality. Then I actually told Ran how I felt about her and she kissed me. I think, on balance, I can forgive myself for pretending not to know that I’m playing a racing game against the Kaitou Kid, because I think that would finally be me at my limit._

Still, he was having a good time. Getting sucked into the games with Ran, Aoko and even Kaito was proving highly therapeutic. Pretending for a few hours that there were no black assassins hunting for him, no erratic drug burning away its lifespan inside of him, no murderers and thieves running free—it gave him a forgotten sense of peace, even if it was only pretending. The only hint to anything more all day had been the moments when he and Kaito, if not currently playing a game, would surreptitiously watch each other, each pretending that he hadn’t noticed the other doing so.

Well, that would be cleared up soon enough. Once he returned to Conan, he’d have to confront Kaito and discover what information he had on the Syndicate. The main problem would be getting the thief to trust him, but his father had already pointed out that if they wanted Kaito to tell them everything _he_ knew, they might as well return the favour. Besides, Kaito probably wouldn’t be too fussed about working with anyone who could help catch his father’s murderers—Kaito had spoken of Kuroba Toichi a few more times, and always did so with near-reverence—as long as he was sure that doing so wouldn’t get himself turned in.

That was the other problem he’d have to attend to. There must be some legal means to examine those jewels. Shinichi didn’t intend to work with a criminal—though, admittedly, the things Kir had to do to maintain Gin’s trust were far worse—but aside from that, there was something innately likeable about the guy, and Shinichi had no desire to see him dead.

Speaking of which...

“Holy crap!” Kaito yelped as Shinichi wrenched his wheel to the side, knocking Kaito from a cliff. The white car vanished in an improbable fireball. It would be replaced momentarily, but that moment, along with a shortcut achieved through some nifty—and, as Shinichi knew all too well, not impossible—manoeuvres, was all Shinichi needed to win the race. Kaito groaned as the “ _Game Over, Loser_ ” screen appeared.

“You drive like obachan,” Ran giggled, echoing his thoughts.

“I’m not certain that’s a compliment,” Shinichi commented, wiping some sweat from his forehead as he climbed from the seat.

“Geez, could they turn the AC up any _higher_?” Kaito complained. Shinichi froze, staring at the sweat on his hand and feeling more break out on his forehead. He’d thought it was just the exhilaration of the game, but driving skills notwithstanding, Kaito had been far more into it than he had.

It was _baking_...

He composed himself, furtively slipping his hand into his coat pocket and flipping his phone open just enough to hit _send_.

“Geez, two already?” Aoko complained, glancing at her watch. “Hey, what say we all grab lunch?”

“That sounds great!” Ran enthused. “Where to?”

Shinichi’s phone rang.

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“Uh-oh,” Ai said softly, adjusting the focus of the microscope to ensure that she wasn’t mistaken. Something in Kudo’s post-transformation blood sample was reacting, causing the cellular makeup to shift. That could only mean one thing.

As if right on cue, her phone beeped with an incoming text. It had only one word.

 _Call_.

She tapped in Kudo’s number as she climbed the stairs. He picked up after a single ring. “ _Moshi moshi?”_

“It’s me,” she said. “Do you have the fever?”

“ _Uh, yeah_ ,” he said. “ _But now’s kinda—”_

“Ah, Ran-san can hear your end of the conversation, can’t she?” Ai surmised. Kudo was going to have to talk like he desperately didn’t want to leave, but had no choice. Which, in a way, was true. “Where are you?”

“ _Xtreme Gaming in Shibuya. Look, are you_ sure _this can’t wait?”_

“You know it can’t,” she replied. “Get to the nearest train station and hide in a bathroom. Try to get out of sight _before_ the pains start. Your parents will be there soon.” By this point, she was in the front room, where Yukiko, Yuusaku and the professor were all listening attentively to her end of the conversation. At her words, Yuusaku and Yukiko rose, Yukiko grabbing a bag containing Shinichi’s child clothes, and headed for the car.

“ _Fine... Okay, I understand. No, I guess I can make it, just... damn. Give me fifteen minutes to get to the station, all right?_ ”

“Don’t cut it too fine,” she warned him, before hanging up.

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“Crap,” Shinichi muttered as he put his phone away. Ran felt her heart drop. He caught her look, his facing falling. “Damn,” he muttered, shuffling towards the door. “The lead of the century has to pop up _today_?”

“You have to go, don’t you,” she said softly, not a question but a statement. She stepped away from Aoko and Kaito to talk to him in the corner by the door, as private as it got in a bustling arcade like this. She took his hand, but she knew that she’d have to let him go. “It’s important, isn’t it?”

“Well... yeah,” he said, shifting uncomfortably, glancing down the street. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “It’s all right,” she said. “If it’s an important lead, then maybe it’ll bring you closer to solving the case, right? When that happens, you don’t have to leave anymore...”

“When that happens, Ran,” he promised, “I _won’t_ leave anymore. Never again.” He leaned forwards and kissed her softly, sweetly, his lips warm on hers. She closed her eyes, ignoring as Kaito wolf-whistled. Shinichi leaned back, smiling as he waved and ran off, pausing only slightly in order to swing at Kaito’s head as he passed. Then he turned the corner, and was gone. Ran just watched after him for a long moment. Each time he vanished, each time he ran from her, she was sixteen and at Tropical Land all over again, watching him run from her, swallowed by the darkness that caused him to vanish. But this time felt a little different. She could still feel the warmth of his lips on hers, like the kisses sealed his promise to return forever. She could keep up hope and wait for him. What else could she do?

“Wow, Ran-chan... you didn’t mention he was your _boyfriend_.”

Ran jumped. She’d forgotten that Aoko and Kaito were there. Aoko was staring at her in an odd mix of awe and jealousy, while Kaito was staring after Shinichi with a thoughtful look on his face. It made him look oddly reminiscent of Shinichi in full-fledged deduction mode.

“H-he’s not...” Ran began to stammer, out of habit, but then she blushed when she realized that Aoko was dead on. “Well, I guess he is.”

“Lucky,” Aoko muttered. Ran realized that she was looking at Kaito.

“Aoko-chan,” she giggled, “you _like_ Kuroba-kun, don’t you?”

“ _NO_!” Aoko yelped. Kaito stared at the two of them, and looked like he was about to come over, but he stopped dead in his tracks when Ran gave him Evil Eyes and dragged Aoko a little further away from him. The girl was still babbling nervously, her face crimson. “He’s just this baka that I’ve hung out with since we were kids, I mean he’s funny and all, but he’s always pulling _some_ stupid trick and he’s never serious about _anything_ and on top of that he’s a fan of that stupid thief and... and...” Ran let her stutter into silence. “...And I’m just digging myself deeper, aren’t I?”

“Heard it all before, Aoko-chan,” Ran said sympathetically, “mostly from me. Come on, I won’t tell, I swear.”

“Wellll...”Aoko’s blush fired even redder, making a lot of headway towards purple. “I guess... the tricks _are_ really funny, and kinda cool... _he’s_ kinda cool... and nice... but...” she was wringing her hands nervously now. “Sometimes... I feel like he _knows_ he’s not being serious, he’s _deliberately_ not being serious, like he’s hiding who he is, or something... how do I say it? It’s like he’s been hiding something for a long time now, since we got into high school. It’s made him really distant, and kind of... cold. I mean, he’s not mean or anything. He’s nice, he’s... sweet, but cold. Like ice cream. You know? Oh, that sounds weird.”

“No, I understand,” Ran said. And she did. She knew that Shinichi had been hiding something from her, ever since that day. He was hiding the truth about the case, about where he was, about what was happening to him, about that mysterious illness of his... but... “Aoko-chan... has he ever hidden anything from you before?”

“Well... no, not really,” Aoko admitted. “Nothing bigger than trick secrets, and you know, you _can’t_ give those away... even after Toichi-Ojisan’s death... obasan said I was the first person he talked to. He wouldn’t even talk to her; just shut himself up in his room with Ojisan’s doves...”

“Then it must be really important,” Ran said, to Aoko’s surprise. “And I’m sure, someday, he’ll tell you. You just have to trust him. If you’re the first person he spoke to, when he was hurting like that, then I’m sure you’re just as important to him as he is to you. If you just trust him, I’m sure that, one day, he’ll give you the truth... out of guilt, if nothing else.” She smiled slightly as she remembered one of Shinichi’s favourite phrases. “Shinjitsu wa Itsumo Hitotsu.”

“Sure,” Aoko said with a nervous little giggle as her cheeks started to pale again. “I guess I can do that... senpai.” Ran burst out laughing, and, both of them laughing, arm-in-arm, they returned to a now worried-looking Kaito.

“Why do I feel like the joke’s at my expense?” he asked. The girls looked at each other and started giggling all over again. He sighed. “Well, where shall we dine, ladies? Somewhere public, I hope. That way, everyone can see me dining out with the two most gorgeous girls in Tokyo...”

“How will you taste your food with that silver tongue?” Aoko teased, as they began walking away, in the opposite direction from Shinichi.

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Shinichi gasped for air as he tore down the street, the fever now so high that people stared as he tore his scarf and coat off, slinging them under his arm as he ran for the station. He tripped and slowed as his racing heart sent the first wave of pure fire down his veins, pain shooting to every inch of his body before contracting around his heart, squeezing it like a fist. He knew he should stop running soon, but he couldn’t just collapse and change out here on the pavement, the station was in sight...

And so was a familiar silver rental car, parked out front. Shinichi gasped in relief as he hurtled down the pavement towards it, the back door popping open at his approach. He collapsed inside as another wave of fire rushed through his body.

Someone reached back to close the door behind him. The car instantly revved up, accelerating away. Through the red haze of pain around his vision, he could make out his mother in the driver’s seat, his father in the back with him, pulling down sunshades to prevent people from seeing into the car. He grabbed Shinichi’s arm to steady him as the car turned a sharp corner, speeding back towards Beika, but Shinichi knew he wouldn’t make it to the Professor’s; the pain was coming fast now, every heartbeat agony, and his bones were starting to melt, and his father lost his grip as Shinichi’s arm shrank under his hand. Shinichi fell to the floor of the car, into the cool, comforting darkness...

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Kaito didn’t have far to walk between the block of flats where Aoko lived and his house, but he walked it slowly, giving himself time to think about Kudo Shinichi. He’d heard of the guy, of course. Kudo’d come into his own as a teen Meitantei around about the same time that Kaito had become Kid, so he’d seen the detective in the papers a lot, but—and he always thanked his absurdly lucky stars for this—he’d only crossed paths with the Meitantei once. That heist had been a real wake-up call. Kaito hadn’t had to really think on his feet during a heist in _ages_ , but Kudo had certainly given him a thorough workout. Kaito’d only gotten away out of sheer jamminess. He’d been half hoping for and half fearing another showdown with the guy who’d practically read his mind, but it didn’t really make a difference, considering that Kudo pulled one hell of a disappearing act not long after. By the time Kaito set off to mess with Nakamori-keibu the night before the Black Star heist, the newspapers and magazines were already trading rumours that Kudo’d stuck his nose into something a little too deep and been offed. Overall, while Kaito felt bad for the guy, he had been relieved; getting the Black Star would be tricky enough without that psychic on his heels every step of the way.

As he’d thought, Kudo Shinichi didn’t turn up on the rooftop that night. It was just a first-grader with a bottle rocket.

He very quickly dropped the _just_.

It hadn’t been a _difficult_ escape—the usual combination of crowds, confusion and flash grenades had done the trick—but he _had_ had to wing it again, which he’d never had to do with _just_ Nakamori before.

Again, scratch the _just_.

Edogawa Conan was a creepy kid. No _way_ had a first-grader been able to figure out the necessary maths to decode his note, but the boy had evidently been expecting him, and not just then. Kaito hadn’t been hugely worried about Mori Kogoro being on the ship—no matter what the papers said, it was evident from the first instant that the man was an idiot—but he had been surprised that Conan had showed up. Evidently, Mori and his daughter were looking after the boy, which would be keeping him at close range to the pearl the whole time. It also ended up keeping him close to Kaito—he knew he would soon be found out when he heard the Suzuki girl say that she was calling her sister, so he ditched the costume in the bathroom and lay in wait for the first person to walk past who would allow him to get close to Suzuki Tomoko.

Unfortunately, the first person had been Conan. Too small. Still, the expression on his little face had been strange, like the moment he’d introduced himself on the rooftop—too serious, too _focused_ for a seven-year-old. It was like his childishness was only a Poker Face, like Kaito’s light-hearted silliness. He was a weird kid, all right, but still, he _was_ just a kid. Disguising as Mori Ran shouldn’t be _too_ much of a risk.

He really needed to learn his lesson about the word _just_.

For the third time, he’d been cornered, seen right through, as if his thoughts were being broadcast out of his head like a damn BS radio wave—and for the second time, by a kid with unnervingly confident eyes...

Maybe that sapphire-hard stare—or that crazy-strong football—was the reason that, by the time Conan had finished laying out every aspect of his plan in a Holmesian display of logic and deduction, Kaito had forgotten that it was a kid and not a man in front of him. Maybe that was why he’d dared the underwear trick. Didn’t explain why it had _worked_ — _well, the kid_ is _pretty precocious_ —but Kaito wasn’t going to curse his only bit of good fortune that night.

Time and again it had happened. He’d planned and practiced, spending longer planning perfect tricks and heists than he’d ever bothered to for Nakamori or Hakuba—hell, for _them_ he often just resorted to good old-fashioned cat burglary—but the kid always latched onto the _tiniest_ thing, be it an almost invisible scratch on a wall or a vague incongruity in the background of a news report, and he’d spun _everything_ out from there, reading Kaito’s mind like a book. Kaito quickly grew to regard the boy as a worthy adversary. And, in some of his more introspective moments, he’d wished that the tiny Meitantei was alive when his father was murdered. Edogawa Conan’s razor mind might just have been able to find what the police had missed.

He’d had a minor mental freak-out—blessedly concealed by a well-honed Poker Face—when they’d run into the Mori girl today and she’d introduced them to her boyfriend, Kudo Shinichi. He’d calmed himself by reminding himself that the guy wasn’t psychic any more than Kaito could teleport, but he’d almost dropped his Poker Face entirely when he’d locked eyes with Kudo and found himself on the receiving end of a piercing sapphire stare which went right through his mind, dragged out his innermost secrets, and screamed _BUSTED!_ An unnervingly _familiar_ stare.

But that was crazy. Kudo Shinichi didn’t know he was the Kid, and there was no _way_ he was anything more than possibly distantly related to Edogawa Conan—after all, _Kaito_ sure wasn’t related to the guy, and Aoko and Ran hadn’t stopped needling them about secret twins and cloning. The idea that Kudo Shinichi and Edogawa Conan were any closer... that was just crazy.

_And a jewel that cries the elixir of immortality is...?_

He shook those thoughts from his head. It wasn’t like he _bought_ that Pandora story, anyway. It was just a pretext to mess with the bastards who killed his father. Besides, he had other things to worry about. Like the part where, thanks to some _very_ sharp hearing, he’d heard every word that Aoko and Ran had said. It had thrilled him to pieces. It had broken his heart. It had scared him to death.

Ran was right. Aoko deserved the truth. But if he lost Aoko because of it...

His mind was still spinning by the time he finally reached home, thinking back to the night he’d found out the truth about his father. What had hurt more—the truth or the lies?


	22. Waking

Shinichi groaned as he floated back to consciousness. Damn, he was _sore_...

He opened his eyes to see his room. For a moment, his memories flickered uncertainly. Was he still himself? How long had it been since he’d taken the antidote? Had he been dreaming?

As he woke up fully, though, he realized that the antidote had clearly run out; his bed was too large, the window was too far away, the proportions of the whole _room_ were wrong. He was small again. Edogawa Conan had returned.

He lay there for some time, running over his nearly forty-five hours as himself. It was by no means the three days that Haibara had tentatively hoped for, but it was much longer than he’d ever gotten before. That gave her something to work with, and that gave him hope.

It was hard to imagine that maybe, just maybe, it was within his grasp: freedom from his kiddy body, from being ignored and not taken seriously, from being so close to Ran every day yet being so very distant from her...

 _It’s going to be even harder keeping my distance from her now,_ he thought wryly, relieving the all-too-pleasant memory of her kiss, holding her close, how it felt so perfect, so _right_...

Only now he’d have to pretend to just be a dumb kid again. He sighed. _I will tell her the truth, just... not while Gin and the rest still walk free. I just can’t put her at risk. I_ can’t. _Of course, I’m not certain she’ll believe a story_ this _bizarre, but... plenty of time for that in my normal body._

He lay there for a while longer, turning over his information on the Organization in his head, compiling mental profiles of the known members, his allies, his potential allies. He was loathe to admit it, but his reluctance to work with Kid stemmed less from the stealing---that was _nothing_ compared to some of the things that Kir and Haibara had done—but from pure rivalry. That damn thief was the _only_ one who’d ever gotten away from him, Organization aside, and generally found time to make a fool out of him in the process. Well, he’d have to let go of that. If it meant the end of the Organization and the return to his life—and Ran—then, he knew, it didn’t matter who his allies were. At this stage of the game, all that mattered was whether or not they could help him end it faster.

He glanced at the clock, wondering whether there would be time to go to the Kuroba’s today.

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Yukiko sighed contentedly as she took a long sip of her tea. She hadn’t been able to open the windows—far too cold—but moving around the house, tidying it up and just generally living in it had moved the stale air and made the whole place seem less stuffy. She’d been having one of her sporadic “housewife” moments all morning, dusting and hoovering the entire place, but really, it had stood empty for so long that there wasn’t any other option. Yuusaku had gone to go dust down the library, but knowing him he’d probably gotten sucked into one or another of the novels that he hadn’t read in a while. With Shinichi still asleep, the house felt mostly empty and quiet.

She couldn’t help shivering slightly as she wandered through the living room. The house suddenly felt so _big_ ; their place in LA was considerably smaller, something they’d originally bought as a young couple who hadn’t really been thinking about a family. Shinichi had been a surprise, but a pleasant one. They’d moved back to Japan after deciding that it was a better place to raise a child than LA. Yukiko loved her son deeply, from the first moment she’d found out about him, but in those early days, when she was very young, she’d missed the glamorous life she and Yuusaku had been leading as celebrities in LA. They were famous in Japan too, of course, but Japanese parties were more subdued than those in California, and she either brought Shinichi and left early or left him with Eri-chan and then felt guilty. She’d sometimes resented having to leave her starlet life behind—a thought that horrified her now. The house felt empty and unlived-in with three people in it; how much bigger and lonelier must it have been for Shinichi for the three years that he lived here on his own?

Ever since they’d returned home that horrible day, two years ago, to find the place empty and covered in dust, she’d realized that, if Shinichi _had_ been killed that day, she might not have known for—well, she didn’t want to think about how long. And he would have died having not seen his parents last for _months_. She couldn’t stop thinking about him running home in the rain, tiny and terrified and completely alone; he might have fought with the gate all night if Agasa-Hakase hadn’t found him. He’d ended up staying at Ran-chan’s, and while Yukiko knew that Ran was more important to him than anyone, she also realized that being so close to her, watching her worry, having to lie to her day in, day out... it had to be torture for him. All because she and Yuusaku, as soon as they were legally able, had swanned off in what they thought at the time was a revival of their glorious youth but, she now recognized, was one hell of a mid-life crisis. She hated that decision now, and she knew that Yuusaku’s renewed habit of reading the Japanese papers and frequent insistence on visits back to check on Shinichi meant that he was thinking the same thing as her: what the _hell_ had they been thinking?

Perhaps the worst of it, though...

Her thoughts were cut off by the rapid patter of little feet on the stairs, and old sound that she hadn’t heard for some ten years. Shinichi shot past the living room, then almost _skidded_ as he turned back to join her. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and with his hair still mussed by sleep and wearing his old childish pyjamas, it was like she’d fallen backwards in time.

Suppressing the emotions that arose at the thought, she brought up a playful little smile at the half-panicked look on her son’s face.

“I slept _eighteen hours_?!” he spluttered. Yukiko giggled and shrugged.

“I’m sure Ai-chan _did_ tell you not to overexert yourself just before or during the change, Shin-chan,” she reprimanded him. “Goodness, I thought I was going to have a heart attack when you came tearing along and collapsed into the car!”

“I couldn’t help it,” Shinichi said grudgingly, stretching after his overlong sleep. “We didn’t know exactly when I was going to change back. I thought I would have longer.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful about the time, all right?” Yukiko said. “I don’t want to have to pick you up at the last minute like that again... I nearly stopped the car when you started screaming! And then when you shrank you got so thrown about before Yuusaku got hold of you...”

“I wouldn’t _get_ thrown about if you didn’t drive like a maniac,” Shinichi grumbled. “Geez, I can’t _believe_ I slept that long... I have to go back home—well, to Ran’s—tomorrow...” Yukiko couldn’t help a tiny jolt at the reference to Ran’s as “home”. She knew it was just habit from over two years of living there, but...

“Well, plenty of time until then,” she said cheerfully, walking through to the kitchen. “Now, how about some breakfast? I bought a few supplies when we came back... what do you want?”

“Um, toast,” he said, shuffling after her. Yukiko popped a couple of slices into the toaster, reflecting on how when Shinichi had _actually_ been this small, she’d had to stop him climbing onto the counter, insisting that he was “big enough to do it himself”. Of course, he probably felt far from “big enough” now...

“I guess we’ll have to try and contact Kuroba sometime today,” Shinichi muttered, half to himself, as Yukiko put a little more tea on. “I’ve no _idea_ how we’re going to approach him about this, though... might just have to wing it and hope he doesn’t leg it out of a window when he sees _me_ walking into his house...”

“Well, Yuu-chan explained everything to me in Osaka, and I’m sure he’ll be willing to listen if you tell him you can help him avenge Toichi-sensei,” Yukiko said, pulling the lightly done toast out of the toaster and buttering it. She sat down opposite her son as she brought the plate over. “Kaito-kun followed Toichi-sensei _everywhere_ as a child... his death hit the poor boy very hard.”

“Yeah,” Shinichi mumbled, around a mouthful of toast.

Yukiko reached out to pull the other half of the slice out of his mouth, tapping him on the lip with it. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, Shin-chan.”

“Geez, Kaa-san,” Shinichi grumbled, snatching for his toast, “sometimes I feel like you’d love me to be a little kid _forever_...”

Yukiko dropped the toast. Shinichi reached out for it, but suddenly stopped, narrowing his eyes as Yukiko drew her now-trembling fingers back. “Kaa-san?”

“Shin-chan,” she said quietly, “what if... what if that was true?”

Shinichi sat back, leaving the toast on the table, his face expressionless. He looked so much like a tiny Yuusaku; she knew that whether she unburdened herself fully or tried to pass it off as a joke, he wouldn’t say a word until she was done talking. But he also wouldn’t let it go if she _did_ try to pass it off as nothing. Anyway, didn’t she owe him this much?

“Shin-chan... Shinichi... I...” clearing her throat, she set down her teacup. “I... have to confess... I was so scared when we came back to find you gone, but when Agasa-Hakase told us what had happened, and we saw you coming out of that elementary school for ourselves, I was _happy_. But not... just because you were alive. It felt like time had been reversed. Like... I’d been given a second chance.”

Shinichi didn’t say a word, but his blue eyes flickered slightly. What was he thinking?

“I’ve felt guilty for a long time,” she admitted. “I feel like... like I was a bad mother. When I was very young, fresh off the silver screen, I just wanted to hold onto my youth and glamour forever. I wanted to see the world with Yuusaku, live life to the full... and then we had you. I loved you to pieces... still do... but I also... I _resented_ you. I felt like you came along too early. I didn’t want to put my life on hold for someone else’s sake, even... even my own son. I hate those thoughts now, hate the person that I was. But I also clung to that person. When we left you, I don’t think either of us stopped to think that... maybe we weren’t those young, glamorous, self-centred people anymore.  That maybe there were more important things. But we left you alone, and saw you so rarely... Even though, legally old enough or not, it must have been at least a little hard for you, a little lonely.”

Shinichi looked down, not confirming her words but not quite contradicting them either. Yukiko plunged on. What else could she do?

“And then we came back to find that you’d vanished, nearly been killed, been left all alone after such an ordeal, simply because there was no-one to notice that you hadn’t come home in time or to let you in. When we saw what had happened to you, I realized that the cost of putting myself first had almost been far higher than I’d ever dreamed of... I nearly lost something that I never wanted to lose.” Her eyes burned, remembering the fear and regret and shame of that day, of seeing what had happened to her child. “But... I also felt like it was a reset, a do-over. If you stayed this way, and had to grow back to your own age, maybe... I could try again. I could be a better mother. I really wanted you to come back to America because... I didn’t _want_ you to solve this. I wanted to hold on to you and my second chance, no matter what you wanted.” The tears spilled over now, dripping down her cheeks and onto her clenched fists where they rested on the tabletop. She could no longer look her son in the eye.

“I-I’m so sorry, Shinichi,” she whispered. “The whole time, no matter what you suffered, I-I only thought about _myself_... Wh-what _I_ stood to lose... wh-what _I_ stood to gain... I...”

“You don’t deserve to be a mother,” Shinichi finished quietly. Yukiko choked back a sob. “That’s what you’re thinking, right? Kami, that’s stupid.”

Yukiko glanced up in surprise, to see Shinichi watching her, smiling faintly.

“Funny,” he said, “for someone so completely self-centred, you certainly didn’t try very hard to get your way. You could’ve let me stew in Ran’s suspicions, which frankly were strong enough to force me out of the house at that point, but instead you created ‘Edogawa Fumiyo’, _reinforcing_ my alibi and allowing me to stay. You haven’t tried to make me leave since, and you’ve even _helped_ my case. I never would have cornered Vermouth that night without _your_ disguises. For someone who only cares about herself, you certainly assumed a lot of risk there from your old friend ‘Sharon’ and whoever else might have been at that party. And you wouldn’t think someone so self-centred would take so much time out of her life to come check on someone who they _only_ think of as a burden, or worry about them so much.”

“Shinichi...” Yukiko whispered, the tears only flowing stronger. He slipped down from his seat, walking around the table, the toast lying cold and forgotten.

“Yeah, I was a little lonely when you guys left,” he admitted, “but it’s not like I’d miss _bad_ parents, would I? Kaa-san... no matter what you wanted, in the end you put my choices and what _I_ wanted first. I wouldn’t be this far if you hadn’t. I don’t resent you or anything, all right? There might be better Kaa-sans, and there might be worse ones, but that matters not a whit to me or my work.” They both cracked a tentative smile at the Holmes reference, Yukiko sinking from the chair to her knees, at Shinichi’s level. “What _does_ matter is that the Kaa-san I’ve got is you, and you’re a pretty good one, all things considered. OK? Aw, geez, please stop crying, I’m still a teenage guy inside, I can’t handle that...”

With something between a laugh and a sob, Yukiko flung her arms around her son, sobbing into his little shoulders. He hugged her back, his tiny childish arms only really reaching around her sides. But still, he held her, and he forgave her, and for the first time in eighteen years, she felt at peace.

After a while, she wiped her eyes and pulled back, smiling gently at her son as he pulled himself back up into his chair and started eating what had to now be freezing toast, smiling himself at something over her shoulder. She turned to see Yuusaku leaning in the doorway. He also gave her a faint smile, having probably already deduced what had happened, but he also looked troubled.

“Yuusaku?” she asked, rubbing her eyes again. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Kuroba-kun,” he said sternly. “Looks like we won’t get to talk to him yet after all.”

“What?” Shinichi said, narrowing his eyes. “What happened?”

“I just heard on the radio,” Yuusaku said. “There was a hit-and-run in the West End. The police have attributed it to the turf wars between the Red Comets and the Black Stars.”

“He’s been hit?!” Shinichi yelped in shock. “Dammit... street racers my ass...”

“I agree, but Kaito-kun, isn’t the one with the really serious injuries,” Yuusaku said.

“What?”

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Kaito groaned as he floated back to consciousness. Dammit, it _hurt_...

What had happened?

_He was... helping his mother with the shopping, bag-carrying, telling her about hanging out with Aoko and Mori Ran and Kudo Shinichi. It was getting late, getting dark, and they were taking a short cut along an empty road in the West End, and he wasn’t really paying attention until headlights flashed out of the darkness and an engine revved to life..._

_Was I... hit...?_ he wondered, mentally taking stock of his body. His head was hurting like hell, and so was his right wrist, which was wrapped in a thick sling. Yes, his wrist had cracked against the pavement, when...

When...

 _Dropping the shopping, he grabbed his mother’s arm, yanking her aside as the car barrelled towards them, missing him by inches. He caught the most fleeting glimpse of the guy behind the wheel, a silver-haired bastard with the cold eyes of a killer—of a Raven. One of_ Them _._

 _Even though he had missed Kaito, he smiled. Only then, too late, did Kaito realize that there was a second car. The headlights were off, so he wouldn’t notice it against the first car..._ Dammit...

 _“Kaito!_ ”

 _He cracked his head and head against the pavement as his mother threw her whole weight into him, and there was a sickening_ thump _as the second car flew past him by inches..._

_Blood trickling into his eyes, he forced his head up to see the car pass, Snake grinning in the driver’s seat like the son of a bitch that he was, and his mother falling from the roof of the car to the boot, and then slamming into the ground, where she lay still, limbs at unnatural angles, blood spilling into the street._

_“Okaa-san,” he croaked, crawling over, but his vision was blurring, and he heard someone screaming, doors slamming, and saw feet running towards him..._

_The blackness overwhelmed him..._

He turned his head to the bed next to him, dreading what he would see.


	23. The Gathering Storm

_Ravens. So many circling that there was nothing but black. Gathering thickly, circling ever closer..._

_Then they struck, and the white dove screamed as it fell..._

Akako jerked awake, sweat beading her forehead as the dream remained in her mind, crystal clear. Witches’ dreams never faded. Instantly, her servant appeared.

“Prepare a summoning circle,” she snapped, pulling her brief dressing gown over her even briefer nightdress.

“Right away, Akako-sama,” he said, bowing and vanishing. She stalked down the stairs, into the basement, where the circle was already drawn and incense prepared. She never wondered how he always did what she asked of him so fast. He was a youkai. It was what he was meant to do, very literally what he was _for_. For a witch, her youkai—or army of youkai, some summoned many, although Akako had never bothered, as she preferred solitude—was a loyal and vital servant.

But should a single tear fall, it would instantly become her gaoler.

She swiftly donned the black cloak that was, if not strictly necessary for the ceremony, _did_ look good. With a snap of her fingers, the incense began to smoulder, scented smoke rising and, rather than dispelling, followed the tracks drawn on the pattern on the ground towards the centre of the circle. There, at her command, they merged into one huge, pulsating cloud. She continued the summoning chant and the dark cloud thickened. Not stopping or slowing in her chanting, she stretched out both arms and drew her left hand up, then slashed it down, her sharp fingernails cutting into her right wrist. A little blood dribbled down, the tiny red orbs floating towards the cloud, which instantly turned a matching red. She waved her left hand again, and her right arm healed without a mark. As a witch, she never injured, never sickened, never aged. Her reward was perfect, eternal beauty—its price the white scars that were almost invisible on her alabaster wrists, the only scars she would ever have, the scars that she would always have.

The cloud was changing shape now, developing into a face, indistinct but discernable forms of a mouth and fiery eyes forming. Akako looked Lucifer straight in the eye and made her demands.

“What has become of Kuroba Kaito?” she demanded. “I dreamed of a dove hunted by ravens. So who are the ravens, and what has become of the Kaitou Kid?”

 _The Kaitou Kid shall not meet his end until the full moon shines on the red tower,_ Lucifer repeated. _The dove shall continue to fly until that day, even if he does so alone and with blood pouring from his beak._

 _So he lives,_ Akako thought with involuntary relief, _but has been hurt..._

 _The ravens have already struck down a dove,_ Lucifer continued, _and will hunt until they have destroyed the nest and taken their blood jewel. But as they circle the white thief, so too do they hunt the black knight- and the ravens cannot defeat a united coin._

“Who _are_ the ravens?” Akako insisted.

_Those who crave the shadows, who strive to defy my reach for which they are destined._

The smoke faded; Lucifer had clearly said all that he intended to say. Frustrated with dark creatures and their general tendency to be enigmatic, Akako stalked back up the stairs, out of the cellar and into her dark foyer. All of the windows were covered with heavy curtains, blocking out the pure new light of the sunrise. She snapped her fingers and the servant instantly appeared with a pot of fresh tea, which he poured for her before withdrawing.

 _It seems that Kuroba has made some dangerous enemies,_ she mused as she drank. _And perhaps it is they and not I who are fated to end him at the red tower... yet I wonder if their fate with him is changeable. A “United coin”... opposites of a single entity... perhaps He means that the “Black Knight” is destined to be an ally of the “White Thief”... opposites, certainly... thus, someone who is Kuroba’s opposite, yet shares his fate. Mmmmm..._

“Akako-sama,” the servant said, returning without her summons, something he only did if something of great importance had happened. “I was examining radio waves for news of the Kaitou Kid, and it seems that Kuroba Kaito and his mother were in a traffic accident.”

“It was no accident,” Akako said, sipping her tea as she forced herself to remain composed. “This was the ravens’ strike of which I dreamed. So he is hurt?”

“Hospitalized but alive at the Haido Central, Akako-sama,” he replied.

“And his mother?” Akako could not help but ask.

“Well...”

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“Otou-san!” Aoko gasped as her father strode down the hospital corridor towards her. “Can we see them?”

“They’re not supposed to be letting anyone but family in yet,” Ginzo replied, “but they assumed I was with the police investigation into the accident and I never bothered to correct them. They’re both alive, I was told, and while Kaito-kun doesn’t have any serious permanent injuries, Chikage-san’s another story. She hasn’t woken up since the accident, and they think she may have slipped into a recuperation coma—she’ll sleep until she heals, which I’m given to understand won’t be any time soon.”

“Oh, no,” Aoko whimpered, covering her mouth with her hands as her eyes heated with tears.

“It’s all right; she could very easily have been lying in a casket now instead of a hospital bed.”

They both stopped in surprise as the young female officer addressed them. She was just leaving the room where Kaito and Chikage were, along with a male officer and a woman in a traffic warden’s uniform.

“Wait, you’re Sato and Takagi, right?” Nakamori asked the two officers. “I thought you were assigned to violent crimes primarily in the Beika area.”

The traffic warden nodded. “I’m Yumi, since you didn’t ask,” she said, “and we’re assigned to these street racers thanks to Miwako’s own... _unorthodox_ driving.”

“Hey, they needed someone who can actually _keep up_ with these guys,” Sato said, “although both gangs are claiming innocent, as it happens. The bosses of Red Comet and Black Star both have solid alibis for the time of the accident, and although they admit that they can’t vouch that their gangs wouldn’t get into a street race without them, they did say that they’d banned battles happening anywhere except the docks, so this kind of thing doesn’t happen and draw the attention of the police. If they find that one of their gang members has been involved, they swore to report it, but we’ve got nothing so far.”

“They probably won’t find anything,” Takagi said. “If they were battling, one of them would have been in a red car, right?”

“Kaito-kun said that both cars were black?” Ginzo asked. All three nodded.

“He was backed up by four witnesses,” Takagi said, opening his notebook. “There was a backstreet Mahjongg club on that street, and four friends were coming out just as the accident happened. Neither Kuroba-san nor any of them saw the drivers’ faces, however. The first car missed them by inches and kept going until it was out of sight. The second car came straight at them. According to the witnesses, Chikage-san pushed her son out of the car’s path and jumped.”

“J-jumped?” Aoko asked. Sato nodded.

“Smart move,” she commented. “It means she was knocked _over_ the car instead of being dragged _under_ it, which saved her more grievous injuries and may well have saved her life. That’s what I meant when I said it could have been worse.”

“Oh, Kami,” Aoko muttered, pushing past the officers and into the hospital room, leaving her father to the officers’ questions.

There were only two beds. Kaito was lying in the one nearer to the door, right wrist thickly bandaged and in a sling, a white bandage wrapped around his forehead before disappearing into his mass of shaggy hair. He was awake, but was facing away from the door, watching his mother. Aoko couldn’t help a strangled sob at the state of her, barely any skin visible beneath bandages and thick casts. Kaito looked over in surprise, evidently only just noticing her presence.

“Aoko?” he said in surprise. “Hey, I thought they weren’t letting anyone except family in yet. Jii-chan only got in by pretending I was his grandson.”

“Otou-san managed to pass himself off as being with the police investigation,” Aoko sniffed. “Kami, Kaito... are you all right?”

“Aww, _I’ll_ be fine,” he said dismissively, waving his left hand. “You can’t kill me if you try... _you_ should know that,” he added, flashing what was only a thin shadow of his normal cheeky grin. “But... Kaa-san...”

He turned away, no longer able to look her in the eye as his voice broke, unwilling to let her see as he tried to reassemble his crumbling and broken Poker Face against the constant onslaught of tears of grief and fear. The sight was not new to Aoko, and it broke her heart to see it again.

 _“He’s still in his room, Aoko-chan,_ ” _Kuroba Chikage said, her voice hoarse from the tears that seemed to have fallen non-stop for the past week. “He eats, a little, but he won’t talk to me or Jii-san... I wonder if he’ll open up to you.”_

 _“I just wanna see if he’s all right,” Aoko said, heading for the stairs. She paused and looked back at Chikage, sitting alone at the kitchen table with only a cup of tea from which she occasionally sipped. “Chikage-obachan... are... are_ you _all right?”_

 _Chikage forced a wan smile. “I... I’ll_ be _fine, Aoko-chan,” she said reassuringly. “Thank you for your concern, but... Kaito is the one who needs it.” Aoko nodded and climbed the stairs._

_Kaito was sitting alone on his bed, surrounded by a flock of Kuroba Toichi’s doves. They fluttered back and forth, cooing and pecking gently at him, but he remained curled up in a little ball, his head buried in his knees._

_“K... Kaito-kun?” she said tentatively. He didn’t respond. She moved closer, calling to him again, but again he didn’t respond. She climbed up onto the tall Western bed next to him, almost sobbing as she called to him. As her voice broke with tears, he finally looked up, an ostensibly happy smile on his face as he told her not to cry._

It was the same smile now. It was weak, fake, something to force down his own pain in order to prevent someone else’s. But...

As Aoko sat down on the chair beside the bed, she reached out and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, saying the same words she had back then.

“It’s all right, Kaito-kun,” she said, adding the “kun” out of simple nostalgia. “You don’t have to pretend that you’re just fine. It’s okay to let yourself be sad... it’s okay to cry. You don’t have to hide in front of me. That’s... what best friends are for, right?” her voice trembled as she forced her own little smile, a mirror of the one that fell away from his face as tears finally welled up.

“I thought she was gonna die too...” he whispered. And then, just as he had ten years ago, he leaned into her embrace and, just for twice, let the Poker Face fall away as he cried.

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“So they will both, in all likelihood, live,” Akako summarized, careful not to show the involuntary stirrings of relief. Even so, the youkai servant, so annoyingly in tune with her emotions, sensed her feelings.

“Surely you are not pleased, Akako-sama?” He responded with a rare seriousness—his kind was not prone to much beyond subservience and malignant glee. “The death of the Kaitou Kid is in your interests, after all.”

“That will be enough,” she snapped, mind spinning with the search for a pretext to send the old toad away. Then she remembered something.

“If you can, go uncover who was the one in the helicopter at the Clock Tower heist,” she demanded. “The one who nearly cornered Kid.”

“Yes, Akako-sama,” the servant replied, before bowing and leaving. Akako returned to her uncooling tea.

 _Yes,_ she mused, _With the police, so certainly a knight of justice, the opposite of the Kaitou Kid... and yet, his aura was so like Kuroba’s... so powerful, so aggressive, so purposeful... like a lightningrod, the dark powers that it so despises inadvertently drawn to it... yes, this could certainly be our “Black Knight”. As for Kuroba..._

She couldn’t help the surges of relief at the news that, not only had Kuroba survived, but so had his mother. For all his light-hearted silliness as Kuroba Kaito and his unshakeable confidence as the Kaitou Kid, she could tell that, behind the Poker Face, his father’s death and the Raven’s persecution had left him a glass dove. Beautiful, but so much more fragile than many would realise, filled with invisible hairline cracks and scars, only too easy to shatter. To lose someone else that he cared about to those shadows... it wouldn’t kill him physically, but the damage to his soul would be no doubt irreparable.

 _His death would be in the best interests of my_ magic, _yes_ , she mentally acceded, _but I am still, to an extent, human... and I’m just far enough away to know that humans never know what’s best for them._

Kaito... people like him were rare, different, and people couldn’t help but be drawn to them. For all the dark power that flowed through her, Akako couldn’t bring herself to long for the destruction of something like that. After all, she knew all too well, didn’t she, just how far pain could break and twist people? How far it could put them beyond recognition or salvation?

Unconsciously, she closed her left hand around the almost invisible scars on her right wrist.

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Saguru sifted through almost endless files, a talent for speed-reading and a photographic memory allowing him to cover nearly a hundred cases in the few hours that he’d worked that morning, ever since he’d confirmed the news reports with Nakamori-keibu. Kuroba would probably out soon, as his injuries weren’t serious, but his mother would be doing an Egyptian mummy impression for some time. The final tally was a snapped right leg and badly crushed right shoulder and arm, as well as some head trauma and a number of broken ribs. Her left side, having not been the focus for the impact with the car or the ground, sported only a dislocated elbow and a badly sprained ankle, aside from the entire surface area of her skin having been transformed into one giant bruise and scrape. Still, she was clearly a smart woman—jumping had saved her from being dragged _under_ the car, which as it hadn’t braked would likely have torn a limb or two off, in addition to significantly more serious head injuries and probably fatal internal injuries. And that bugged Saguru. Not that she was alive—god, no, however much he disliked Kuroba, watching his mother disembowelled by a car was not something he would wish on anyone, not even Professor Moriarty—but the thing that worried him was that neither car had braked, according to Kaito and the four witnesses.

 _Even if they were terrified when they realized that they had hit someone and fled,_ he thought, adding some notes to his notebook, _surely, the second that they saw that they were bearing down on somebody, they would have braked or at least slowed or turned, race notwithstanding. Which implies that it was no accident. That’s another point, come to that. Two street racers, even if they were racing without their bosses’ permission, would_ never _race in cars of the same colour, but both cars were consistently reported to be black. All of which points to a hit that someone planned to direct blame towards the turf war between the Red Comets and Black Stars. The only reason that no-one’s realized this is that I’m the only one to suspect that Kuroba actually has something that is likely to make him a target of the more unsavoury elements of the criminal underworld._

He scanned his eye down the list of cases that he had amassed to look over again—there really were a _staggering_ number of people who had, for one reason or another, tried to kill the Kaitou Kid. He marked an early and particularly strange incident, where an imposter Kid had attacked a number of police officers and used some _very_ advanced robotics to steal a diamond. No-one had ever been entirely certain what had happened there, or how it had ended; there had been a mysterious explosion on the top level of an office building that was under construction, and all that had been left at the scene had been some shattered and scorched fragments of machinery and the stolen diamond, with a note from Kid attached to it, proclaiming innocence. The whole thing had been sufficiently weird even by Kid’s standards to make the case still something of a subject for discussion and speculation among the special unit.

Almost equally weird and even closer to fatal for Kid had been the heist with Nightmare, but Saguru preferred not to think about that, and neither did most of the high-ups at Interpol. He’d told them that Jack Connery had died fighting Nightmare, and they’d officially left that case open, but there still lingered the unpleasant common deduction of the truth left unsaid. He had felt genuinely sorrowful for Kaito on that case. He had seen hundreds of dead bodies, of course, but he had been lucky enough, at least, to never witness an actual death, and he couldn’t imagine how horrible it had to be, not only to see someone die in front of you, but to see them die after slipping from your grasp.

He shook that particular Nightmare aside and flicked through the list of further Kid assailants. He didn’t know much about what had happened at the Chat Noir heist, having been in Paris at the time, but he gathered that the entire incident had been non-violent beyond some damage to Nakamori-keibu’s favourite tie, and in any case Chat Noir had vanished immediately afterwards—unsurprising as they had all seven cat’s eyes at that point. No, Chat Noir was unlikely.

The perpetrators behind the debacle at Mystery Land (which, thanks to Kid, most people assumed he was more familiar with than he actually was) were all still behind bars, as was Scorpion. It was possible that they’d hired associates, but Scorpion had distinguished herself by insisting on working independently and as for the rest—if they had any means left to see Kid dead, they would have struck long ago. Besides, having already been arrested, they had no real motive for killing Kid aside from petty revenge, and even then Hattori and Conan-kun would be higher priority targets.

He turned to his last, most promising lead: the testimony of Jody Hopper.


	24. Reflections and Realizations

“No luck?” Shinichi asked as his father emerged from Haido Central Hospital. Yuusaku shook his head.

“They’re not supposed to be letting anyone except family in yet,” he said, “although they don’t seem to have many takers there except an old man who I think was a friend of Toichi-kun’s and whom I believe has told them he’s Kuroba-kun’s grandfather. I got the gist of the situation from Nakamori-kun, however.”

“Wait, how’d Nakamori-keibu get in?” Shinichi asked. “He’s not related to them, is he?”

“No, but he shouts louder and more readily than I do,” Yuusaku said dryly. “Besides, he’s the head of an important police unit, so I believe he gets some access priority to any admission that has drawn the notice of the police, even if it’s not his case.”

“So?” Shinichi asked as they began to walk away from the hospital. “How are they?”

“Kaito-kun doesn’t have overly serious injuries,” Yuusaku explained, “just a broken right wrist—it’s a clean snap, it should heal all right—a minor head injury, which they still need to do some scans for though Nakamori-kun insists that they won’t be able to notice any difference. Aside from that, just scrapes and bruises. Chikage-san’s another story entirely, I’m afraid. She was hit by one of the cars and she has multiple broken bones and serious head trauma. She hasn’t woken since the ‘accident’ and doesn’t seem set to any time soon.”

“Bastards,” Shinichi growled as he climbed into the passenger seat of the rental car. They both knew well that this was no accident, any more than Kuroba Toichi’s death was. This also, due to stupid hospital visitor policies, was going to make it difficult for Shinichi to contact Kuroba for some time. More than that... “The biggest problem right now is that the Organization will know they survived,” he pointed out. “Kuroba’s tough, but with his arm in a sling, a head full of painkillers and none of his stuff, he and his mother are going to be easy targets if They decide to finish him.”

“Should we turn back?” Yuusaku asked.

Shinichi shook his head. “They already saw you ask about Kuroba and leave,” he said, “and anyway, they’re going to be swamped with doctors and cops for a couple of days to come. Unless They’ve finally developed as good a grasp of “subtle” as they have of “untraceable”, They won’t try anything for a couple of days. I’ll go back for a look-in tomorrow, though. Just to make sure there’s nobody watching them.”

“I have little doubt that They will be watching them,” Yuusaku warned, “and to that end, be careful. They know your face due to Gin’s suspicion of Kogoro-kun, don’t they? And They may have seen you at the case at the hospital before. If They spot you here too, Edogawa Conan will become just as suspicious to Them as Kudo Shinichi.”

“I know,” Shinichi said darkly, twisting his watch unconsciously. “And if that happens... I’m getting as far away from Ran and Occhan as humanly possible. I’m not dragging them down with me.”

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 _I’m certain of it now,_ Saguru thought, closing the last of the old case files that he’d obtained with his father’s influence. _The dates match._

After reading Jody Hopper’s testimony and ascertaining that the mysterious trenchcoated man who’d attempted to steal the Red Tear had never been caught, Saguru had gone over the case files again and a few odd reports about Kid’s escapes. More than once, people had reported hearing strange noises, often something that could well have been the _crack_ of silenced sniper fire, and on each of these heists people had claimed to have found white fragments of Kid’s cape. A shattered hanglider had even been found once, after the theft of a jewel known as “Blue Birthday”. As Saguru remembered, that heist had in fact been the night of _Aoko’s_ birthday—which Kaito had not attended, even though the heist hadn’t been too far away and had ended over an hour before the party had. In fact, some digging through his memory banks had brought up the somewhat disturbing revelation that Kuroba had missed a day or two of school after most of the heists that he’d reinvestigated, claiming a cold or fever. One such heist had been followed by an entire weeks’ absence. Saguru was now sure that it wasn’t the flu that he’d been recovering from at the time. The thought made him unaccountably sick.

So he’d looked up the old files from what he was now certain were Kuroba Toichi’s days. Kid’s last heist, the one that he had never attended, had been less than a week after the magician’s fatal stage accident. The dates of Kid’s heists becoming focused primarily on Japan matched Kuroba Toichi’s decision to settle in Tokyo. It was the heists from about three years before his death that interested Hakuba. There had been a sudden sharp increase in them, after a long period of decline.

 _Something changed,_ Saguru thought, switching on his laptop and pulling up an old Kuroba Toichi fansite. He set a list of dates, heists that had shown the same almost unnoticeable marks of sniper presence that had appeared at the heists that had injured Kaito, next to the screen. Luckily, the site was an old one—about seventeen years old (which explained the rather basic layout; someone had clearly been _very_ into Kuroba Toichi to be willing to wrestle with the code necessary in such early days of the internet), and still occasionally receiving questions and comments—and had never cleaned out the “Updates and News” blog, the most recent of which was about a tribute show from about four years back. Some searching back to old dates yielded similarly worrying results; shows postponed or shortened due to “illness”, and at least three thoroughly distressing incidents where shows had been stopped entirely for a fortnight as Toichi had “injured himself while practicing a new trick that went wrong”. There had been no heists during those periods either.

 _Sounds like he ran afoul of some pretty dangerous people_ , Saguru thought, m _ore than happy to put him out of the business for good. But rather than retire, he starts stealing_ more _often. Which means that he was looking for something. And from what Hopper-san said, so were..._ are _they. The ‘Pandora’. Kuroba must be looking for it too..._ as his eyes travelled down the blog entries, he noticed one that had generated several thousand more comments than the others. He opened the thread and read the short, grieving entry. _Oh. And then... a trapdoor did their work for them._

It struck him, as he read some of the comments, that he knew relatively little about Kuroba’s family life. He’d always been so focused on the Kid and Aoko aspects of things. For God’s sake, he hadn’t even known that Kuroba’s father had been _the_ Kuroba Toichi until the heist the other week. It explained a lot about that idiot, of course, but...

“ _How did you come to this? Why do you steal?”_

_“It’s your job to find out, isn’t it, Tantei-san?”_

_Then if he became Kid to finish his father’s work.._. Saguru thought, but the thought was interrupted when something in the responses caught his eye. At this point, the comments had become something of a conversation—no, an _argument_ would be more appropriate. The comments from this point dated to some five years after Kuroba Toichi’s death—evidently, the user “AceOfSpades” had only just come into the details.

_AceOfSpades—I for one am feeling disillusioned. No truly great magician would be so stupid as to not even check to see if his trapdoor was working properly. What a baka._

_PuffOfSmoke—O.o umm, ever heard of respect for the dead?_

_WhiteDove—Yeah, Spade. It was just a tragic accident. It wasn’t his fault any more than it was that poor mechanic’s. You call yourself a fan? >:(_

_AceOfSpades—no trapdoor malfunctions that badly without serious neglect. I bet the baka never even did safety tests._

_PokerFace—He always did. Someone could have interfered with the trapdoor and caused it to close._ That _could have been the “catastrophic mistake” the mechanic referred to in his suicide note._

_AceOfSpades—yeah, right. Like anyone’d bump off a stage magician. He may have TOLD people that he always checked his stuff, but I’ll bet anything that he was criminally negligent._

_PokerFace—I’ll take that anything, then. He wasn’t negligent, and anyone who says he was can shut the fuck up, ‘cause they clearly didn’t know him._

_WhiteDove—O.o ummm, Forum rules say no swearing. You could get booted for that._

_AceOfSpades—And you did?_

_PokerFace—I think I can be trusted to know my own Tou-san, you stuck-up bastard._

_PuffOfSmoke—O.O That’s why you’ve not been blocked. Hey, my consolations, kid. That must have been really rough._

Saguru clicked off of the forum with a disgusted snort. No wonder Kuroba had been pissed. It also left him with two useful pieces of information. One, there were indications—circumstantial and inconclusive, but there—that Kuroba Toichi’s death had been no accident.

Two, Kaito had seen them long ago, and almost certainly had some more solid evidence that he just couldn’t reveal without spending a good long time in jail.

 _And if the subtle sniper attacks and those shadowy incidents at the Hopper show and the Osaka Museum are any indication,_ Saguru realized, _he can’t risk that... because clipping his wings with handcuffs would simply make him an easier target._

Saguru sat back from the files, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair and pressing his fingertips together in a tent in front of his nose. There were a couple of questions about Kuroba Toichi’s death that he’d have to ask Aoko—he was fairly certain that Kuroba wasn’t going to take searching questions about his father from _him_ —but he was growing increasingly certain that Kuroba Toichi’s “accident” was in fact a well-disguised murder... just like what had happened to Kuroba the night before. It was only through good reflexes on the part of both Kuroba and his mother that it hadn’t succeeded.

 _There may well be far more to this than the Kaitou Kid,_ Saguru thought, blond eyebrows furrowing as he remembered a secretive three-way conversation in Osaka, _and I think there are three people who know exactly what_.

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“I found the information that you sought, Akako-sama,” the youkai informed Akako as she returned home. She had attempted to visit Kuroba at the hospital, to find that hospital policy meant no visitors in except family until the important tests were done, and the young doctor that she’d charmed into letting her in anyway had been stopped by an angry-looking nurse. In a bout of frustration, she had informed them that Konosuke Jii was not even distantly related to Kuroba and left. She knew it wouldn’t score many points with Kaito, but it made her feel a little better.

“Well?” She snapped, waving her hand over her summoning bowl, needing only a name to summon an image of the person in question. “Who was it?”

“Kudo Shinichi, kokosei-tantei,” the servant replied. “Around the same age as you and Kuroba, and far more skilled that Hakuba, I understand.”

“I have little doubt of that, if his aura is any indication,” Akako said, adding, “Kudo Shinichi” to the scrying bowl. It blurred uncertainly for a moment, before bringing up an old image of Kuroba.

“Not Kuroba,” Akako growled exasperatedly, “Kudo Shinichi. _Kudo Shinichi_!”

The image did not change. Akako leaned closer, narrowing her eyes. As she looked closer, she realized that _yes_ , while he bore a striking resemblance to Kuroba Kaito, this was a different person. The difference was subtle, a little difference in the jawline, marginally darker and infinitely better tamed hair, the sparkle in the otherwise identical eyes less mischievous.

“ _Very_ interesting,” she breathed, leaning over the image. “They are not related, I presume?”

“They are about as closely related to each other as you are to the Queen of Britain, Akako-sama,” her servant answered. She narrowed her eyes.

 _I have never seen two fates so deeply linked,_ she thought, examining the static face of Kudo Shinichi. _It even shows up on their faces..._

“Another Kokosei-tantei, eh?” she mused. “Perhaps I should speak to Hakuba-kun and find out a little bit more...” _But I wonder_ , she thought with a frown as the image faded, h _e looks so young, yet I understand that he’s in High School... I wonder why the scrying bowl did not use a recent image?_

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“Rrrrgh!”

Ai thumped her head down onto the keyboard, causing a line of gibberish to appear at the bottom of the annoyingly empty text document. She’d hit a dead end. A major dead end.

 _I thought I was well on track, but... arrgh!_ she hit her head on the desk this time, before yawning widely. _Maybe I just need sleep... I last slept... when...?_

She couldn’t remember. She hadn’t slept at all the before Kudo took the new strain of the antidote, and then the trial had gone relatively well and she’d gotten some good data that she’d been working on nonstop ever since, so she’d probably last slept before Christmas Eve...

That had been _days_ ago...

She jerked her head up when the phone rang. Swallowing back the yawns, she reached for the receiver. “Moshi moshi?” she said calmly, her usual mask of stoicism slipping in even though she wasn’t talking to anyone’s face.

“ _Ai-chan! Do you know when Conan-kun’s coming back? I was thinking that we all need to get together and celebrate when he does!”_

Ai couldn’t help a smile at Ayumi’s chirpy voice. “He gets back tomorrow, Agasa-Hakase said, although not until the evening. He’ll probably have serious jetlag.”

“ _Oh... well, maybe we should just all play games together at Agasa-Hakase’s, then. He made a new one, right?_ ”

“A racing game, yes.”

“ _Good! I’ll bring snacks and stuff. Or maybe we can get Ran-neechan to make stuff, she’s such a great cook..._ ”

“I’ll ask her,” Ai offered without thinking.

“ _Yay! Arigato, Ai-chan! I’ll see you then!_ ”

“Bye, Ayumi-chan,” Ai said quietly as the other girl hung up. She set the phone down, wondering what had possessed her to make that offer. She dreaded any face-to-face with the older (physically, at least) girl. There were too many awkward, hidden feelings on her own behalf. Besides, she didn’t really want to see how Ran was doing now that Kudo had left and “Conan” hadn’t returned yet. She knew just how strong their feelings were for each other, how lonely Ran would be, not knowing when she’d see him again. And she’d pretend that she wasn’t, and smile. But then, she _would_ hide it, wouldn’t she? All of her fears and pains and anxieties... she’d lock them away, act as if they weren’t there, just to protect others...

 _“I’m fine! You should worry more about yourself! Get out of that lab... get a boyfriend!_ ”

Ai stared at the computer screen, holding down the backspace key until the gibberish that her head had typed disappeared.

 _I couldn’t save Akemi,_ she thought, glad that Agasa never came down into this lab, glad that she was assured of privacy as the tears that she always hid began to surface. _People like her... they let themselves be destroyed for the sake of others. I don’t want to see it happen to her, too... no matter what..._

Suppressing a yawn, she got up and put a pot of coffee on.

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Nakamori Ginzo sipped at his sake dejectedly. He liked this bar. It was almost across the road from the station, so it was a common police decompression spot, and as such the owner had quickly adjusted to the needs of his clientele and served some of the strongest coffee and sake in the city, as well as being probably the only bar in Tokyo to offer bulk discounts for drinks, and was very good about quietly refilling empty glasses without having to be flagged down. The owner, for his part, made a small fortune from night-shift cops and cops that needed to forget something horrible—which was all of them at one time or another—and never got robbed or had to clean up after fights.

He’d been investigating all day on the accident and there was still no-one to blame, prosecute or yell at.

“Do you know what’s even worse, Koichi-kun?” he complained to his drinking partner, “My superiors got wind of it and read me the riot act. Said it wasn’t my case, even if they _are_ my friends. They were like this about Toichi-kun’s death, too. ‘It’s not your department. Your case is Kid.’ Hah, _he_ went and vanished afterwards anyway, so I had plenty of time on my hands to double-check the details of Toichi-kun’s accident—I remember something was bugging me then, Kudo-san too, although I can’t of the life of me figure out what now—but they closed the case! Without a proper investigation or anything! Damn idiots...”

“I know what you mean,” his friend sighed. “You just wish they’d get their fat asses out from behind their desks and do some _real_ work, so they’d know what it’s like. They were like that about that damn counterfeiting case...” Ginzo normally drank alone or with his unit, but this was a friend who travelled a lot, so he hadn’t seen him in a while. Besides, they had similar areas of expertise, so they always had a lot of common ground for drunken rants.

“Oh yeah,” Ginzo agreed. “And then do you know what they said? Maybe I shouldn’t work on the Kid case anymore. I’m getting older, they say, so maybe it’s time for my experience to be used elsewhere. Read: I’ve been chasing the Kaitou Kid for twenty years and I haven’t caught him, and now I’m poking into others’ cases, so clearly I should let someone else do it right. Hah! Like a new inspector’s going to have any better luck with the Kaitou Kid than me! He doesn’t walk free because _I’m_ incompetent, it’s because he’s _good_ , dammit, I don’t mind saying it; he’s good, and it’s only _because_ I’ve been chasing him for twenty years and I know how he thinks—as well as you can about someone who’s so far around the bend that he’s snuck up behind you, anyway—that I’ve been able to save some of his targets, if nothing else! Someone new, someone with no experience of the Kid, he’d be lost!”

“Tell me about it,” the other sighed, sipping more of his sake. “Thieves this good... Honestly, I suppose there’s little chance that we can ever _catch_ them; you just have to make the job as difficult as you can for them and hope you get lucky.”

“It’s not like he’s _bad_ or anything, anyway,” Ginzo muttered, draining his glass. “He doesn’t hurt anyone and he always returns the stuff.”

“And count your blessings for that one, Ginzo-kun,” Zenigata said consolingly as they both held out their glasses for the bartender to refill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lupin III doesn't appear in this fic, I just really think Zenigata and Nakamori would make great drinking buddies XD


	25. Confrontations

Kaito lay still with his eyes closed, knowing that if the doctors thought he was asleep they wouldn’t find it necessary to give him any sedatives. He had no intention of sleeping. He knew all too well what he would see when he slept, the things he’d nightmared about when he’d passed out last night: his mother being thrown over that car like a rag doll, his father collapsing in a spray of blood, over and over like some sick newsreel. At some point, the memories had mutated into fears, and the ones getting smashed or thrown or (for variation) shot by a cruelly smirking Sake weren’t his parents: It was Aoko or Akako getting hit by a black car, Hakuba or Nakamori-keibu getting shot, Jii or Tantei-kun getting crushed. These weren’t new fears, but they’d just been given a vivid new vehicle with which to wake him in a cold sweat. He had no intention of reliving them again.

He’d heard several people trying to get in and being denied. Akako had come not long after Aoko had left (and he’d heard her lose her temper with the nurses and out Jii, which meant that Kaito wouldn’t see him for a while) and not long after that Hakuba had come, to mixed surprise and unsurprise from Kaito. He wasn’t particularly fond of how often Hakuba tried to drive jealous and generally Kid-related wedges between him and Aoko, but he _was_ still a friend of sorts and, frankly, at that point it would have been nice for the nurses to let _anyone_ in. Until Aoko brought some of his books and stuff tomorrow, he was growing maddeningly bored, with not much to do but listen to people in the hallway and watch his mother’s thankfully stabilized breathing.

What had _really_ thrown him was hearing a half-familiar voice asking to be allowed in, and after a minute realizing that it was Kudo Yuusaku. Ignoring the doctor’s advice, he had dizzily (maybe he’d hit his head harder than he’d thought) made his way to the window and peered out, in time to see the novelist and—as he’d expected—Edogawa Conan walking away from the hospital. At that point, he’d gotten back into bed and started pretending to be asleep.

 _Tantei-kun saw Snake,_ he remembered. _He’s gotta be suspicious. But sharp kid or not, there’s no_ way _I’m telling him about the Shadow Syndicate_. Edogawa Conan may have been an incredibly sharp, tough and flat-out creepy kid, but these guys were far more dangerous than the run-of-the-mill murderers and thieves— _and absolutely brilliant thieves, of course_ —that the kid seemed to encounter on a regular basis. There was no _way_ Kaito was dragging a little boy into something so dangerous. There was no way he was putting _anyone_ else at risk over this.

 _Which means that, as soon as I get out of here,_ he decided, _Kuroba Kaito may have to disappear for a while..._

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“Are you stalking me?” Saguru demanded, turning and glaring at Akako, who sauntered out of a side alley with a pleasant smile on her beautiful face. A man nearly swerved into the lane of oncoming traffic behind Saguru, who remained stubbornly unaffected.

“Hmph,” she snorted in annoyance, before smiling again. “I _was_ looking for you, yes, as I have a couple of questions for you, although I suppose out of pure nosiness the first one will have to be what you’re doing in Beika district.”

“How did you know I was here without knowing _why_ I was here?” Saguru asked, starting to walk again. Akako fell into step beside him.

“Morningstar told me,” she said, stroking the beak of the crow that was sitting on her shoulder. “Now answer _my_ question.”

“I have to meet one of the other detectives from the Kid heist in Osaka,” Saguru sighed, turning into the entirely residential district 2. “So what did you wish ask me?”

“I was interested to know if you had ever met a fellow kokosei-tantei by the name of Kudo Shinichi,” she purred. “I understand he nearly caught the Kid once, so I’m _very_ interested in meeting him.”

“God help him,” Saguru muttered, earning him Evil Eyes from Akako, but then continued, “well, the detective I’m meeting is his father, so I’m sure that any questions that you have you can put to him. I can’t say I’ve ever met Kudo myself, anyway. I understand that he’s travelling for a major case and is, for the most part, impossible to contact.”

“ _Is_ he, now...?” Akako said thoughtfully. Saguru shrugged and started scanning the nameplates for the houses. It didn’t take long to reach the Kudo’s, a large western-style manor with the silver car that they were renting parked out front.

Saguru pressed the doorbell. Akako hovered beside him, clearly also intent on meeting Kudo’s parents. After a moment, the intercom crackled.

“ _Konnichiwa_?” said a woman’s voice.

“Kudo Yukiko-san?” Hakuba said politely. “This is Hakuba Saguru. I believe we met in Osaka.”

“ _Oh, yes! At that Kid heist!_ ”

“Indeed,” Saguru said, “and as a matter of fact, the heist is why I am here. There are a few points that I wish to discuss with Kudo-sensei.”

“ _I’m sure he’d love to talk to you... just a moment..._ _Yuu-chan!”_

There was a _beep_ and the gate opened. Saguru politely allowed Akako to enter first, and conscientiously closed the gate behind him. The front door was opened by Kudo Yukiko as they approached.

“Hakuba-kun!” she greeted him cheerfully. “It’s nice to see you again...” her delicate eyebrows shot up as her gaze fell on Akako. Saguru supposed that Akako’s outfit—which, with the black bodice, black lace sleeves and silken skirt down to her feet that were probably _wholly_ inappropriate for the cold weather, made her look like some sort of goth queen—had to be quite a surprise to people who weren’t used to it. He wondered where she _got_ her wardrode. “Who’s your friend? I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“This is my classmate, Koizumi Akako,” he said. “Koizumi-san, this is Kudo Yukiko.”

“Hajimemashite,” Akako said pleasantly. “Forgive my intrusion, but I was rather a fan of your son’s when he vanished, so when I heard that Hakuba-kun was coming here, well... It’s not true that he’s dead, is it?”

“Oh, no, no!” Yukiko insisted. “Shin-chan’s alive and well, thank goodness, although I _do_ wish he’d call more often... Yuusaku’s in the library, by the way,” Yukiko added to Saguru. “I told him you were here, so he should be expecting you... down that hallway, the door at the end.”

“Arigato Gozaimasu,” he said politely, setting off said hallway as Yukiko and Akako moved to the living room, chatting about some of Kudo’s cases.

The library door stood slightly ajar, and Saguru had raised his hand to knock and enter when the sound of a whispered argument caused him to pause. He moved a little closer to the door, straining his ears.

 _Is that Conan-kun?_ he thought in surprise when he heard the child’s voice. There was something different about it. The boy was speaking tensely, seriously, completely unchildlike in all but the pitch of his voice—and he even seemed to be lowering that, making himself sound older.

“You didn’t mention that she knew about you!” Yuusaku’s voice was urgent and worried.

“Because I knew you guys’d freak out and at any rate it doesn’t seem to be a danger spot. She clearly hasn’t told Them yet, has she?” There was something about the way Conan had hissed _Them_ that sent Saguru’s detective senses tingling. You could _hear_ the capital letter.

“Not a danger spot? Even if she hasn’t sold you out yet, she easily could at any time! She has a dangerous amount of leverage over you!”

“If she wanted me dead, she could have killed me when I was under the sleeping gas. She could have let Gin kill me when he came after Occhan. She hasn’t. I don’t know what she’s up to, but whatever it is it doesn’t seem to be in Their best interests, and that’s good enough for me.”

“She has no reason _not_ to betray you, and even if she did I doubt that would have stopped her. You realize that she’s almost certainly the one who sold Toichi-kun out to Them—”

“Which, incidentally, is what I wanted to speak to you about,” Saguru said as he entered the library, deciding that there was no point in pretending that he hadn’t been eavesdropping. Kudo Yuusaku and Edogawa Conan stared at him with almost identical expressions of shock. They could have been father and son.

“Hakuba-kun?” Yuusaku said, recovering first. “What do you mean?”

“I think we all well know that Kuroba’s accident... wasn’t,” Saguru said, striding over to the desk that Yuusaku was sitting behind and Conan was sitting on. There was a second chair in front of the desk, which Saguru settled himself into. “I’m presuming that you already knew that Kuroba has dangerous enemies, yes? That’s what you two and Hattori were discussing in Osaka—the _Them_ that you were so worriedly discussing just now. And if I’m right about that, than am I right to say that these ‘enemies’ turned up at that heist? You realize that I’m in Kuroba’s class. I know that more than once there have been mysterious events surrounding Kid’s escapes, and almost every time they’ve been followed by a brief absence from Kuroba. In other words, you knew that something like this could happen, and you didn’t alert the authorities. Why?”

Yuusaku and Conan exchanged brief, serious glances. Then Conan sighed and turned his unsettling sapphire stare on Saguru.

“They’re _in_ the authorities, Hakuba,” he said, no longer sounding even remotely like a child as emphasized by the use of “Hakuba” rather than “Saguru-niichan”.  “Kuroba’s enemies are powerful and dangerous. We couldn’t tell the police because we couldn’t be certain of who we could trust. Not that there’s anything they could have done anyway.”

“Listen, Hakuba-kun,” Yuusaku said sternly, “I don’t know how much you know about these people, but the fact that you even know that they exist puts you at risk. If They find out that you’re investigating Them... you may have to disappear for a while.”

“Like Kudo-kun?” Saguru suggested, to terse nods from the other two, along with an oddly irritated expression from Conan. “So that’s what he’s investigating. I wondered what kind of case would force such a prominent detective to vanish.” He narrowed his eyes. “Forgive me for prying, but it’s what detectives do. How are _you_ involved with these people, Conan-kun?”

“I... saw some stuff I shouldn’t have,” the boy hedged. Saguru got the feeling that he wasn’t lying, but that there was far more to the story than unfortunate nosiness. “What do _you_ know, Hakuba?”

“I know that there is strong evidence that Kuroba Toichi’s death was no accident, and neither was what happened to Kuroba and his mother last night,” Saguru replied, hoping to get them to show their hands by laying his on the table. “I know that, for over three years before Kuroba Toichi’s death, he was regularly and secretly shot at by snipers, a trend that seems to have followed Kuroba from about a month after he became Kid. I know that, according to Jody Hopper, the gun-wielding man and his thugs who attempted to steal her family gem knew the Kaitou Kid and seemed to place killing him as a priority over obtaining the jewel. I know, from the same testimony, that these people are evidently looking for a specific jewel, and given Kid’s heist patterns and fixation with jewels even though he used to steal paintings and statuary as well indicates that he’s looking for it too. I can only conclude that these mysterious yakuza killed Kuroba’s father, and he’s trying to get to their target first in revenge. Well?”

“Right on target, Hakuba-kun,” Yuusaku said quietly. “And that is why we decided to let the Kaitou Kid’s true identity remain a secret. I believe that, until recently, They thought that the Kid was Toichi-kun—that he’d somehow escaped Them ten years ago. That would explain why Kaito-kun was not attacked in his civilian life before now. Revealing who he was would have been a death sentence. As it is, they will likely come back for him, although not until the police have stopped hovering around him.”

“That may not be for a while,” Saguru said. “If they don’t find the drivers, which seems increasingly likely, the police will have to retake his statement multiple times, and they’ll also want a statement from his mother when she wakes. That gives him some breathing space, at any rate.”

“But not a lot,” Yuusaku said. “Hakuba-kun... I know better than to tell a detective to stop investigating, so I’m just going to tell you to be careful. If you came here for information, I’m sorry that we couldn’t give you any, but you must understand that we can’t put you at risk unnecessarily. To that end, however...” he picked up a file that was sitting on his desk and handed it to Saguru. “These are my personal files on the Kaitou Kid and the death of Kuroba Toichi. I can guarantee that if you try to reopen the official case files on Toichi-kun’s death, They will notice. They let Nakamori-kun live when he tried to reopen the case files because he never suspected Toichi-kun of being Kid, so they could dismiss it as being simply out of grief at his friend’s death. You never met Toichi-kun, however, so if you tried to access the files, They would suspect you of prying into things that They thought They had hidden. You too would almost certainly suffer an... ‘accident’.”

“My father is the superintendant general of the Tokyo Met,” Saguru said, flipping through the folder. “Accident or no, I doubt he would close the case of my death so easily.”

“He might have to if his superiors demanded it, Hakuba,” Conan said quietly.

Saguru narrowed his eyes on the boy. “How high do they go?” he asked.

Conan shrugged. “High enough that neither the FBI nor the CIA have ever declared their presence in Japan,” he replied. “That’s why this investigation has to remain strictly independent from the police. Can I convince you to drop it altogether?”

“Not a chance,” Saguru said firmly. “The Kaitou Kid is my case, and nothing and no-one is going to kill him before I get my cuffs on him. If I have to let him walk free a little longer to ensure that he doesn’t get his brains blown out the second I catch him, so be it.”

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“I’m terribly sorry that I can’t tell you where he is,” Yukiko sighed, tidying away the tea things. “I wish I knew for myself. Really, does he have any _idea_ how much he worries me?”

“That’s quite alright,” Akako replied. “It was wonderful to talk to you. Goodness, is that the time? I should be leaving soon.”

“Well, if you must, Akako-chan,” Yukiko sighed. She glanced down the hallway. “Ah, here come the boys, anyway.”

Akako was rising from her chair when she felt a shiver down her spine.

 _Oh, Lucifer,_ she thought wildly. _It’s that aura... like Kuroba’s, so powerful, so purposeful... and yet, tinged so heavily with death, far more than Kuroba’s... such an aura is practically stalked by Death... I’ve felt this once before.... can it be...?_

She turned, expecting to see Kudo Shinichi, but he was nowhere in sight. Instead, coming down the hallway was Hakuba, an older man who had to be Kudo Yuusaku, and... a child.

Akako had never seen the boy before, but he seemed... _familiar_. After a second, she realized that it was _he_ who was emitting the powerful aura. It was more... _concentrated_ , as if a child’s body was attempting to emit an adult’s aura.

 _Lucifer only mentioned_ two _who shared this fate,_ she thought. _How can there be three? Who_ is _this boy?_

“Koizumi-san, I think you’re going to scar the child for life by glaring at him like that.”

Akako snapped back to reality and sent very literal Evil Eyes at Hakuba, who ignored her. The child _was_ looking a little pale, having edged slightly behind Kudo Yuusaku. She calmed herself and donned her most winning smile, which had no effect whatsoever on Yuusaku and seemed to only further terrify the boy. “ _What_ is _it with detectives_?” she thought in frustration, though she maintained the smile.

“Kudo-sensei,” Hakuba said, “this is my classmate Koizumi Akako-san. Koizumi-san, this is Kudo Yuusaku-sensei and his nephew Edogawa Conan-kun.”

“Hajimemashite, Koizumi-san,” Yuusaku said politely.

“Hajimemashite,” Akako replied. Then she turned towards the door. “So sorry to greet and leave, but it’s growing rather late, so I suppose I’d best go home.”

“I’m going to walk you home, aren’t I,” Hakuba sighed. She noted that he was now clutching and unlabeled folder. _Information on the Kid_?

“Ever the English Gentleman,” she said sweetly, stepping into her black heels. “Pleasure to talk to you, Yukiko-san. We must meet up again sometime.”

“Oh, yes,” Yukiko agreed. “I’ll see you again, Akako-chan. By the way... do you live near Aoko-chan? Can you give her my condolences? I know that she and Kaito-kun are very close. She must be worried sick.”

“She is,” Hakuba said. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate your commiserations. Well then... Sayonara, for now.”

“Sayonara,” Akako said, opening the door. Morningstar, her crow, instantly swooped down to her outstretched arm. On an impulse, she glanced back. “Oh, and Conan-kun?” she added. “Watch out for the ravens in the dark. I’m sure they’d simply _devour_ a little boy like you.”

With that, she turned and left, a confused Hakuba in her wake and a very pale-faced little boy left behind.


	26. Homecoming

Kaito slowly blinked awake. He’d kept himself awake until sunrise, almost, afraid to sleep, but then he’d finally passed out and he’d been so tired that, thankfully, he hadn’t dreamed. The dimming light coming through his closed eyelids indicated that it was the afternoon. He could hear two nurses adjusting his mother’s equipment and gossiping. One of them sounded new.

“Well, this is the first time I’ve really dealt with any of the high-risk patients... I thought she’d have had two nurses from the start, though.”

“Oh, she did, dear. You’re replacing Yuriko-chan.”

“Yuriko? Wasn’t she the one that collapsed?”

“Actually, dear, she was arrested.”

“What?! Never! What for?”

“Well, you see, at first they thought she must have collapsed for whatever reason when checking up on Kuroba-san, but then they found out that she was holding a syringe, and, well, when they tested it...”

“What was it?”

“Potassium Chloride.”

“No!”

“Oh, yes. They’re suspecting her of being a ‘mercy killer’, you know. There’s really no other reason to carry a needleful of _that_ into a room with a badly maimed, comatose patient. We’re lucky she just collapsed like that. I wonder why, though. She was always so healthy...”

“Maybe someone knocked her out! The person who found her?”

“Couldn’t be, dear. It was a little boy.”

“A child?”

“Yes, that sweet little thing in the glasses who wanted in to see his niichan, remember? Apparently he snuck in when none of the doctors was looking and found her there...”

“Poor thing. Well, at least the patients are safe...”

Kaito was barely breathing as the nurses passed his bed, still chattering, and left the room, closing the door behind them. When he was alone, he opened his eyes and looked over at his still-sleeping mother, feeling sick to his stomach.

They had already come back, and he knew that that They would have killed him too, although probably not by the injection—two patients in the same room in the same day would have been too suspicious. A “badly maimed, comatose patient” having a sudden heart attack, however... that wasn’t outside the realms of the possible... then They would have let him sweat it out until They came for him, too. The bastards.

The idiots.

Not killing him at the same time would be the biggest mistake they’d ever make. Did They _really_ think that, injuries or no injuries, he’d just sit and wait for Them? No, he’d be doing everything in his power to make Them pay. He’d become the Kaitou Kid completely, spend every second fighting Them, do whatever it took to bring Them to justice. _Whatever_ it took.

That was what frightened him, really. His father’s death had left him with a deep hatred for anyone who would try to take someone’s life from them, and while the Kid was famous for his most violent act being stealing from quite literally under Nakamori’s nose (the Inspector _had_ looked pretty funny for a week until his moustache grew back), Kaito knew how easily he could step over that fine line that he had drawn for himself, how hard he had to fight _not_ to give into the temptation to get his hands on a real gun and blow that bastard’s brains out. He knew it would make him no better than Them, but...

It would be so, so, _easy_. That scared him. How easy it would be to be a “mercy killer”, to tell himself that it was all right because they were murdering bastards anyway, that nobody would miss them, that it was what they deserved. How easily he could become a murderer, when the fury took over, of they hurt his mother or Aoko or Jii... even the thought of losing Akako or Hakuba or Tantei-kun...

“ _That sweet little thing with the glasses..._ ”

Tantei-kun. Tantei-kun with the tranquilizer gun. He “found” the nurse that would have killed his mother. He was looking out for Them. Did he know...?

If he knew, how long had he been involved with Them? Could it be that they’d had the same enemy all along? And if he didn’t, did he have any _idea_ what he was getting himself into?

Kaito prayed they’d let visitors in soon. He really, _really_ had to talk to that kid and find out just what the hell was going on.

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“Coming, coming!” Jodie muttered, wrapping a towel around herself as she ran from the bathroom to the ringing phone in the living room. She turned on the speakerphone, unwilling to hold the handset up to her soaking hair. “Moshi moshi?”

“ _Jodie-sensei? It’s me._ ”

“Oh, **Cool Kid**!” Jodie said, wandering back to the bathroom for her dressing gown and glasses. “Just a moment... all right,” she called as she returned, rewrapping the towel around her head. “ **Merry late Christmas, Cool Kid**. What’s up?”

“ _Them_.”

Jodie froze. There was only one group that could be simply referred to as _Them_ , one group that didn’t have to be named...

“Where?” she asked, sitting down on the couch and picking up the handset.

“ _A nurse at Haido City Hospital. She attempted to kill a comatose patient with Potassium Chloride. That patient, as it happens, is comatose because she was hit by an unidentified black car in something that has all of the subtle markers of an attempted murder very well disguised as an accident. The nurse is currently in police custody. You may want to get to her before she’s released._ ”

“You’re certain this is Them?” Jodie asked.

“ _I am. When I caught her in the room of the comatose woman, I used the voice modulator to use her son’s voice—who was also injured, by the way, and was sleeping at the time—to ask her ‘Did Snakebite send you?’ She freaked for a moment and turned to a tranquilizer dart in the forehead. She didn’t see me. I’m sure she thinks the son did it._ ”

“Snakebite?” Jodie asked, flipping her laptop open. “I haven’t heard of him.”

“ _See what you can get on him from Kir. I only recently heard of him._ ”

“Someday, **Cool Kid** , you have _got_ to put me in touch with your sources.”

“ _Someday might be soon, Jodie-sensei. For now, you might want to..._ subtly... _keep a guard out on him._ ”

“Do you know why this guy’s a target?” Jodie asked, tapping a couple of notes into her computer for the next time Kir called. Due to how deeply into the Organization Kir had penetrated, she couldn’t be called at any time—only she knew when it was safe. All Jodie could do was wait for the calls.

“ _I do, but... I can’t really tell you yet. You trust me, right?_ ”

“Of course,” Jodie said in surprise. “That brilliant little mind of yours has been an invaluable asset, **Cool Kid** , even if I don’t know jack about who you are or where you get your information... I do trust you.”

“ _Well, he doesn’t. Not yet. When I get to properly talk to him, however, he might have some important information. Until then, you guys have to keep him alive, all right? And please remember to be_ very _subtle. He’s_ good _at spotting fakes and spies, and the presence of the police freaks him out—he may well make a break for it if he realizes that the FBI are watching him._ ”

“He’s a criminal himself?” Jodie asked, arching an eyebrow. “Listen, if he’s going to put us on a good track against the Black Organization, I’m sure we can quietly wipe his slate, so long as he’s not a mass murderer or anything.”

“ _Far from it. Listen, I’ve gotta go, but... One more thing. I need your help getting at some official files. They put the pressure on to have the case closed, so They’ll be watching whoever opens the files. And I figure, since they know the FBI are on their trail anyway..._ ”

“As long as we get a nosy at the files first,” Jodie said. “Oh, and I need the name of the guy we’re watching.”

“ _Kuroba Kaito, and for his sake it’s just as high a priority to keep his mother alive as him. The case I want to reinvestigate is the death of his father, the magician Kuroba Toichi. It was quickly ruled a stage accident—_ too _quickly, if you know what I mean._ ”

“Got it,” Jodie said, sending a quick email to James. “I wish I could have asked Kir when she called yesterday... apparently They’ve had to pull some of their operatives out of Osaka and into Tokyo.”

“ _What? Why?_ ”

“Part of it is They’re preparing for something, although she’s not sure what, but also some operation on the twenty-first went wrong and someone with the police has been digging through too many files and details connected to them ever since. They haven’t nailed down who yet, but there’s an automatic hit to be carried out on anyone they suspect.”

“ _Shit. All right. See you._ ” The kid hung up, leaving Jodie staring at the phone.

 _Shit?_ she thought. _Aside from wondering where he learned such language, what did he mean by that? Does he know who’s investigating?_ She opened her browser and went searching for one of the news websites, hoping to find out what exactly had happened on the 21 st. The first thing that came up was, predictably, endless articles on the Kaitou Kid.

 _Oh, yes._ That. _But aside from that..._ she started scrolling through the other articles and paused.

“ _The magician Kuroba Toichi..._ ”

 _Wait a minute,_ she thought, sitting back and staring at the screen. _A Black Org Op goes wrong the same night as a Kid heist... and then Cool Kid’s looking into the death of a magician at the same time that They go after said dead magician’s son? Join the dots, girl... and it looks like a top hat with a target on it..._

Her phone rang, presumably James wanting more details. As she reached for the handset with her left hand, she added another line to her notes with her right.

 ** _Cool Kid_** _always plays his cards so close to his chest,_ she mused, _But at least he always comes up aces..._

“Moshi moshi?” she said into the phone.

“ _Jodie-kun? I’d just like to confirm why this boy needs to be guarded... or more specifically, why he’s a target._ ”

“I don’t know for certain,” Jodie replied, pulling the towel off of head and rubbing at any still-damp patches. “I do know that we’ll have to be careful when we do it, because the boy is apparently _very_ good at spotting people watching him.”

“ _... What’s your source anyway?_ ”

“ **Cool Kid**.”

“ _I see..._ ”

“Don’t you trust the kid, James?” she said sweetly, standing and wandering back to the bathroom.

“ _Oh, I do. I mean, no reason not to, with all he’s done for us, but..._ ”

“As a matter of fact, I agree,” Jodie said, dropping the towel in the dirty clothes bin and pulling out her makeup. “The kid’s been a huge help, and I don’t doubt for a second that he wants to see the end of the Organization, but I think it’s clear that he’s just not a normal kid, and I think it’s about time we knew a little more that squat about him.”

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“Well, at least we know that Kuroba’s going to be protected,” Shinichi sighed as he hung up. “I had no _idea_ They’d come so soon...”

“We’re just lucky you decided to sneak in, eh?” Yuusaku said. “Come to that, why _did_ you? They should be letting visitors in soon.”

“I just had a bad feeling,” Shinichi said. “That witch friend of Hakuba’s is in my head. Anyway, it was right. On the other hand, I think Jodie-sensei’s getting suspicious of me. Not that I blame her. I mean, I _have_ majorly helped the FBI, but...”

“But that’s exactly it,” Yuusaku pointed out, picking up Shinichi’s suitcase as they headed for the front door. It was nearly time for “Conan” to be going home. “Seven-year-old boys do not, as a rule, crash FBI operations with ingenious plans or deliver vital information from unnamed sources. Who _are_ you, that you know so much about the Shadow Syndicate and are so bent on their destruction? They don’t know for certain who you are or where you get your information, which if you were an adult would make you instantly both untrustworthy and suspicious.”

“Yeah, Jodie-sensei seems to be taking it on trust that the Organization wouldn’t trust an important mission like infiltrating the FBI to a kid,” Shinichi commented, “but frankly, I _know_ I’m suspicious as hell, and I know I’m playing chicken with the limits of what they’re willing to take on trust. Still... I’m hoping not to have to tell them anything I don’t need to for as long as possible.”

“Well, since the FBI’s already in something of a state of war with Them, it’s not like knowing about Project Pandora will put them in _more_ danger, is it?” Shinichi shrugged as he sat down on the step to tie his shoes. “That and the likelihood of being betrayed are the main criteria for keeping it secret, are they not?”

“Well, yeah,” Shinichi said, pulling his second shoe on and tugging at the laces. “That, and how long I want to be in the hospital once this is all finished. I _know_ Ran’s gonna make sure I know _just_ how pissed she is that I’ve been lying to her the whole time, and if I’ve told everyone and their cat but not her, she is going to be _furious_.”

“’ **Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned** ’,” Yuusaku chuckled. “So is all of that what the swearing was about? You realize that’s even more out of character than usual.”

“No, it’s that barou Hattori,” Shinichi groaned, sitting back and idly kicking his feet against the stoop as he waited for his mother to get ready. “Apparently, the Organization had to pull a few people out of Osaka, half of the reason being the screw-up at the heist and the other half being that someone in the Osaka police has apparently been poking around far too close for comfort. They haven’t identified precisely _who_ —probably because Hattori isn’t, strictly speaking, _in_ the police, but there’s still an automatic death sentence out for when they find out who it is. I’ve gotta warn him to keep his head down...”

“I’m ready!” Yukiko trilled in Edogawa Fumiyo’s voice as she ran down the stairs towards them, setting her glasses into place. “All right... Shin-chan, you have our gift for Ran-chan, right?” Shinichi patted his suitcase.

“It’s all good, Kaa-san,” he reassured her as she stepped into her black loafers. “We’d better hurry, Ran’s gonna worry if we’re even a minute late...” He turned to his father as he pulled his backpack on. “Haibara’s warned me that I’m getting a surprise ‘welcome back’ party tomorrow, but the day after—and most days after that, really—I’m gonna be checking in to see if I can meet Kuroba yet. I’ll need to check in with the FBI, as well...”

“I’ll have a look tomorrow,” Yuusaku promised. “I wonder if I can meet James again, it’s been a good decade and a half... I’m sure I can put him off of your scent.”

“Thanks,” Shinichi said as “Fumiyo” picked up his suitcase and opened the door. Then, as abruptly as donning a mask—which, in a sense, he _was_ —the seriousness vanished from his eyes and he grew a sleepy look appropriate to a child who had just had to switch backwards thirteen hours and thought it was six in the morning. He gave Yuusaku a last little wave before following his mother out to the sidewalk, where they set out to walk back to the Mori Detective Agency.


	27. The Line of Enquiry

“ _Still_ nothing,” Miwako sighed, flopping down in a chair at the same desk where Yumi, who was in the first division office out of solidarity, was going over traffic reports. “Where’s Takagi-kun?”

“He went to get coffee,” Yumi said. “Mizuhashi Riko’s appeals _finally_ ended, so apparently you guys are going to have to redraft the final report...”

“ _Great,_ ” Miwako sighed, thumping her head down on the desk. To her surprise, a cup of coffee was set down half an inch in front of her eyes a minute later.

“No luck, Sato-san?” Takagi asked, sitting down at a computer nearby. Miwako just shook her head as she sipped her coffee. She sighed happily. _One part water to two parts sugar and ninety-seven parts caffeine... the perfect copper’s coffee._ She was drawn out of her happy reawakening when Takagi groaned loudly. “Takagi-kun?”

“Heather-san’s trial needs a copy of the report...” he sighed. “We haven’t even finished the _departmental_ copy...”

“And the legal copy needs to be a little different from the departmental report,” Miwako groaned. “How about you do that while I redo the Mizuhashi Riko report? I’ll need to reread the old notes on that, I can’t _believe_ it dragged on for so long...”

“Good plan,” Takagi agreed, clicking away at the keyboard. Miwako sighed and set to her own keyboard. Her thoughts drifted off midway through the report, however- around about the time that the names _Hattori Heiji_ and _Kudo Shinichi_ appeared on-screen.

 _Weird kids,_ she thought. _Never heard such fast, minute reasoning... and it_ worked _, that’s the annoying thing. Two amateurs..._ teenagers... _massively upstaged the police! It was like they only needed us there to provide handcuffs! Who_ were _they, anyway? Normal teenagers, if they found a dead body, they’d_ freak _. Normal_ anyone _, come to that. But straight away, they closed off the highway and located the suspects. Who_ are _they? And who is it that they remind me of..?_

“Ah, Sato-san?” Takagi said. Miwako jumped. Her hands had kept typing while her mind drifted off, and her report was finished- and so, from the looks of it, was Takagi’s.

“Y-yeah?” she said, a little disoriented by the jerk back to reality. “I’ll be done in a moment...”

“Um, I think there’s one thing you need to change,” he said nervously. “Kudo-kun’s been asking us to keep his name out of the reports lately... if you could just put everything down to Hattori-kun...”

“Sure, I guess,” Miwako said in surprise, going back through the document to erase any mention of Kudo. “But why?”

Takagi shrugged. “I don’t know. Neither does Megure-keibu. Ever since that rollercoaster case at Tropical land, though, he’s begged us to keep quiet whenever he’s involved. He doesn’t seem to mind that the newspapers are trading rumours of his death. He occasionally calls in with odd instructions or requests, as well. I think he’s on some kind of case, but what exactly it is no-one seems to know.”

“Really?” Miwako said in surprise. “Ah... there’s the report. Finally! Want to go grab some ramen?”

“Sure,” Takagi said with a grin. “Yumi-san left while you were dozing off, by the way.”

“Oh, right.” Miwako yawned and grabbed her coat. “I have to admit, seeing Kudo-kun and Hattori-kun at work was... interesting. Have you worked with then a lot? You took his word pretty fast.”

“Well, I’ve not seen a lot of Hattori-kun,” Takagi admitted, “but he’s a lot like Kudo-kun, and I’ve worked with Kudo-kun a lot. Megure-keibu knows him pretty well. His father is that famous mystery novelist, Kudo Yuusaku?”

“Oh, I’ve heard of him!” Miwako said, waving at the officers on the night shift as they left HQ. “The creator of the Night Baron. I heard he’s a pretty shrewd detective in real life, and that’s why he writes such good mysteries.”

“He’s brilliant,” Takagi agreed. “And he’s an old friend of Megure-keibu’s- Megure-keibu used to call on his help for really difficult cases, ones that had stumped everyone else. Megure-keibu told me that when Kudo-kun was in grade school, he used to follow his father to cases a lot, so he’s been around crime scenes and mysteries all his life, and I guess he picked up a lot. I think it’s similar for Hattori-kun- his father’s the chief of the Osaka Police.”

“Oh, I thought the name Hattori sounded familiar,” Miwako said thoughtfully. She was growing increasingly curious about Kudo Shinichi. “So were you at Kudo-kun’s first case?”

“Yeah,” Takagi said, leading her across a crossing. “That place I mentioned with the really good ramen is this way. Anyway, Kudo-kun’s first case... he was fifteen, I think. Megure-keibu and I were flying to America to pick up a Japanese criminal from the LAPD when a man was found dead in a toilet at the back of the plane. Kudo-kun got to the scene before we did, though. He and Ran-kun were flying to America to visit Kudo-kun’s parents. When we got there, Kudo-kun had already performed a perfect post-mortem, carefully searched the scene, located evidence and taken photos. It was amazing. He then identified the suspects—he actually remembered everyone who had gone to the toilet at the crucial time, he’s got a photographic memory even when he’s not paying attention—oversaw the interrogation and baggage searches, and translated for an American suspect. In the end, he perfectly deduced the murderer, method and alibi trick. He only really needed us for authority over the passengers, who didn’t like being bossed around by a teenager like the scared stewardesses did, and handcuffs for when the murderer confessed.”

“Who did it?” Miwako said curiously. “And _how_ did they get the weapon past airport security?”

“The victim’s girlfriend,” Takagi replied. “She sharpened the metal underwire in her bra and stabbed him in the neck with it.”

“Her _bra wire_?” Miwako spluttered in surprise. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but _how_ did Kudo-kun figure _that_ out?”

“That’s the funny thing,” Takagi said. “It was two _tiny_ things. The strange scratch near the fatal wound—caused by the other end of the wire scratching his neck—and at one point, she reached up to the luggage rack, paused to say something, then reached up to get the bag with her other arm. That was all. _None_ of us noticed that she used her other arm, but Kudo-kun did and reasoned that it had to be because something had forced her to switch arms—like, say, a pointed piece of metal underwire poking her. That’s what’s so incredible about Kudo-kun. He notices the _tiniest_ things, things that almost no-one else does, and spins everything else out from there.”

“Like Conan-kun,” Miwako suddenly said. It had suddenly clicked into place—the nagging similarity, the person that Kudo Shinichi reminded her of.

Takagi looked surprised for a moment, and then nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “Conan-kun does that too, doesn’t he? He spots the tiny little oddities that no-one else does like they’re obvious. Maybe they are too him. He’s young, so he sees what’s there rather than having any preconceived ideas.”

“Yeah...” Miwako said. “I bet he’ll be a Meitantei by the time he’s in high school, as well.”

“Probably,” Takagi agreed. “I think they’re cousins of some sort, so it must run in the Kudo blood... Here we are! Do you want to grab a table or just sit at the counter?”

“Counter,” Miwako yawned. “I can just about eat and sleep at this point...”

 _Still, I wonder_ , she thought, as the conversation turned the choice of ramen or soba, _What kind of case Kudo’s on... and what’s the deal with a disturbingly sharp little boy who doesn’t mind the sight of dead bodies..._

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“Ohayou! Didn’t Ran-chan come?” Tashiro asked.

Sonoko shook her head, adjusting her hairband. “Conan-kun’s getting back from America,” she explained, “and she wanted to be at home to meet him.”

“She fusses over that kid like he’s her son,” Hidaka commented, before giggling. “I mean, given how much he looks like Kudo-kun, if it wasn’t for the fact that she would have been about _ten_ when he was born...”

“You’re awful!” Tashiro gasped, giggling herself.

“Well, you know how she is,” Sonoko said, rolling her eyes overdramatically. “She said she wanted to give him and his mother dinner, since they’ll have spent over twelve hours in a plane or an airport, and Edogawa-san has to fly straight back...”

“Do you think Ran-chan sees Conan-kun as, y’know, a sort of substitute Kudo-kun?” Hidaka theorized. “I mean, I know they weren’t, you know, _together_ , but they were so close, and then he _vanishes_ , and she’s never dated _anyone_...”

“Well...” Sonoko said, glancing around, unable to resist a chance to gossip. “He came back for Christmas, you know. Kudo-kun. I saw them together on Christmas Day. They went to the same movie Makoto-san and I did. Ran-chan looked so happy, and she certainly sounded in a good mood when I called to invite her out...”

“Hey! Sorry I’m late!”

“Kazumi-chan!” Sonoko greeted the older girl happily. “It’s been a while, I’m glad you could make it! How’s college?”

“Oh, you know, study, study, study... but the Christmas parties are _killer_!” she laughed. “But I was totally glad when Sonoko-chan invited me to join the post-Christmas sales excursion... no Ran-chan?”

“Nah, she’s fussing over that kid she looks after,” Tashiro said. “But did you hear? She and Kudo-kun _might_ have been on a _date_ on Christmas...”

“Oh, they _were_ ,” Hidaka giggled. “I was going to say, I heard from Aizawa-kun... the football club was having a Christmas kickabout in Beika Park, you know, and they saw Kudo-kun and Ran-chan... they saw them _kissing_!”

“No _way_!” Sonoko shrieked, drawing irritated looks from the clerks of the shop that they were entering. “She could have _said_... I’ve been waiting for that to happen for _twelve years_!!”

“So is Kudo-kun back yet?” Kazumi asked. “I have a friend who’s in the Mystery Club who was totally excited when she heard that I went to the same school he does... she keeps asking me if it’s true that he’s dead.”

“I don’t think so, unless Ran-chan’s a necromancer and a necrophiliac,” Tashiro giggled. “But he’s not back yet. Must be a helluva case he’s on. Oh, this is cute!” She pulled out a light green sweater. “My colour, d’you think?”

“You might suit something a little darker,” Hidaka said, digging into the same rack. “Anyway, do you have any idea, Sonoko-chan? If he’s told anyone what’s going on, it’ll be Ran-chan, and she tells you _everything_...”

“Except that her and Kudo-kun’s lifelong ‘will-they-won’t-they’ dance is _finally_ over,” Sonoko grumbled, holding a pink sweater-dress up against herself and looking in the mirror at the end of the rack. “And I have no idea. I don’t think she does either. She just seems to prefer to keep quiet about the whole thing and pray he comes back safe.”

“He’d better,” Kazumi said. “Ran-chan’s great at Karate—I heard she’s the school captain now, I’m not surprised—but I remember her performance always suffered a little when she was worried, and she _sucked_ the first week after he went missing. She worries so much. He needs to stop giving her something to worry _about_.”

“Tell me about it,” Sonoko said, turning slightly. “Hmm. I kind of like it, but it’s a little plain...”

“Get a couple of good necklaces and some matching boots and it’ll look great,” Tashiro reassured her, triumphantly holding up a pine-green sweater.

“Now _that_ is your colour,” Hidaka said approvingly.

“Hey, there’s a sale on formal stuff,” Sonoko said, pointing at a banner dangling from the ceiling.

“What are we going to need formal clothes for?” Kazumi asked, following her over.

“Oh, please,” Sonoko said. “If Kudo-kun and Ran-chan are finally _together_ , there’s only one place it’s going to end up!”

“I lose five thousand yen if they don’t get married before the end of high school,” Tashiro grumbled, “so if he doesn’t get back soon, there’s gonna be hell to pay...”

“People are _betting_ on that?” Kazumi said in surprise.

Hidaka laughed. “Are you kidding?” she said. “There are _teachers_ betting on it.”

“And guess who’s running the book?” Tashiro said. Sonoko whistled innocently.

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“Can you at least tell me when we _are_ going to be allowed to visit?” Aoko growled frustratedly. Saguru didn’t really blame the poor doctor for shrinking away from the feared Nakamori Wrath.

“We just need to do the last CAT scans,” he said, “and we’ll be doing them tomorrow, so if they look good you can see him the day after. If he’s got no brain damage, of course, we’ll probably release him on New Years’ Eve. The wrist fracture’s not too bad, if he keeps the cast on it should heal in about a month or two. Now please, I have patients to take care of, so come back the day after tomorrow, all right?”

“Fine,” Aoko growled, whirling around and stalking off, Saguru and Akako in her wake.

“Really, they’re so stubborn!” Akako complained.

“It’s a stupid policy anyway,” Aoko grumbled. “Toichi-ojisan and Chikage-obasan were only children and lost their parents a long time ago, so now Toichi-ojisan’s dead the only family either of them _has_ is each other. Kaito’s gotta be lonely. I’m glad they at least passed on his laptop for me...”

“I wonder why the police are still around?” Akako asked, glancing back over her shoulder. “I should think they have all the information on the accident that they’re getting until Chikage-san wakes up.”

“What do you mean?” Aoko said, confused. She glanced back at the hospital. “I didn’t see any officers anywhere.”

“I saw someone,” Akako said. “They were in plainclothes, but they had the watchful air of an officer about them...”

“You mean the man by the coffee machine?” Saguru said. “The one who was surreptitiously watching us ever since we asked to see Kuroba?”

“But why would the police still be there?” Aoko said in surprise. “It was an _accident_ , so it’s not like they need guarded or anything...”

“Indeed,” Saguru mused. “I’m sure we’re overthinking things. Another officer was probably injured. Their friend may simply have been watching us because he heard about the case and recognized the name. No need to worry, Nakamori-san.”

“Yeah,” Aoko said, brightening up. “At least he’ll be out by New Year’s. Maybe I’ll ask Otou-san if I can invite him over to ours. Chikage-obasan won’t be released yet and it’s just too sad to think of him meeting the New Year all alone...”

“Overthinking, indeed,” Akako muttered as Aoko chattered on, not really looking to see if they were listening or not. “Still, I cannot help but feel that he will seek solitude soon.”

“If that ‘accident’ really _wasn’t_ , something that I am increasingly sure of,” Saguru replied quietly, “he must realize that it would be foolish and dangerous to be on his own.”

“On the contrary,” Akako replied, “now that the shadows have found him, he must realize that they will spread like a cancer, eating into his life and increasingly dominating it. He will not want that cancer to spread to anyone else, not now that it has claimed his father and almost his mother.”

“Do you know something about Kuroba and what he’s facing?” Saguru hissed. “Because if you do, I’d rather you dispensed with the riddles.”

“Riddles and dreams are all I have, Hakuba-kun,” she said sweetly, “as they are all that Lucifer is willing to give. All I have are the images of the white doves circled by the black ravens, and the White Thief and the Black Knight, so similar yet so different, like the sky reflected in the sea...”

“The sea doesn’t reflect the sky, you know,” Saguru pointed out. “It’s a commonly believed fallacy.”

“ _Meitantei_ ,” Akako muttered angrily under her breath.


	28. The Dark Before Dawn

Ran rolled over in bed, willing herself not to look at the clock. Conan-kun had almost fallen asleep in his dinner, poor thing, and his mother had had to kiss him goodbye while he was still sleeping before running for the station. He was still sleeping like the dead—he had a _lot_ of jetlag to get over.

She rolled again, touching the earrings that she’d left on her bedside table. They were Christmas presents from Conan-kun and his family, little dangling rubies with gold decoration, a perfect match for her necklace, which was coiled next to them. She sighed, looking up at the ceiling. She had been walking on air after Shinichi left, happy enough to know that he loved her to ignore that fact that she didn’t know when she’d next see him again, determined not to let it get her down, but a couple of days later she was starting to list, already missing Shinichi again with a pain just as acute as when he’d first vanished. It was even stronger now, the memories of the kisses giving her a longing for him that was a physical as it was emotional. She wondered if it was too late at night for a cold shower.

 _He_ will _be back,_ she reminded herself. _He promised. You’ve waited for him for over two years... you can keep waiting._ But that thought brought back all the old worries of what kind of case Shinichi was on, whether he was safe or not, if he was getting help for that strange illness or if he could get hurt...

 _He said he wasn’t in danger,_ she reasoned, but the thought gave her no comfort. The only times Shinichi had hidden anything from her were when he had been injured in football or PE or, once, when he was twelve, and he’d walked her home and then gone home alone and been mugged by a gang of teenagers. She hadn’t found out until over a week later, when she’d heard Megure-keibu talking to her father about it.

“ _Why didn’t you_ tell _me?!” she cried. “Geez, I had no idea...”_

 _“Ran, I’m fine, it’s no big deal,” he insisted. “They just took my wallet, and all I had in that was my student ID and a couple thousand yen. It’s not like I got hurt or anything._ ”

“ _Still, why didn’t you tell me?” Ran yelled. “You just pretended that you’d lost your ID!”_

_“This is why I didn’t tell you,” he said with a laugh, trying to calm her down. “I knew you’d freak, and now you’re going to worry for days, aren’t you? I got enough of that from Kaa-san. You don’t have to worry about me, Ran. I don’t want you to. Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I’ll tell Megure-keibu that if they find the guys to hold them in custody until you get a chance to kick their asses. You’ve got a green belt now, right?”_

_You said you have no reason not to trust him, but you know he lies to you sometimes, don’t you?_ she thought to herself. _When it’s something that’ll worry or upset you... he’s hidden things like that from you before. Why wouldn’t he do the same now? Especially if, if he_ was _in some kind of danger, it’ll probably be much worse than a few teenage yakuza wannabes..._

“Knowing him,” she muttered as she closed her eyes, finally drifting off, “it’s probably the _real_ yakuza...”

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“ _Ain’t it past yer bedtime, Kudo? Ain’t it past_ everyone’s _bedtime?_ ”

“Then why are _you_ still up?” Shinichi asked, not having expected Hattori to pick up on the first ring. “Anyway, Ran and Occhan are already fast asleep and I’m going to have to play jetlagged for a couple of days, so I figured this would be the last chance I’d have for a while to warn you.”

“ _Warn me_?”

“Kir says that the Organization think that someone in the Osaka Police is onto them, although they suspect it’s an officer,” Shinichi said. “That gives you a little breathing space since you’re not technically in the police, but...”

“ _Nah, I know what ya mean. I’m th’ chief’s kid an’ I’m always wanderin’ around the station, I’m a famously nosy bugger, I’ll be suspect sooner or later. Ya tellin’ me ta watch my back?_ ”

“Pretty much,” Shinichi said. “Have you told anyone what you’re investigating?”

“ _I’ve had ta get Otaki-han ta help me get inta the duty rotas, but I ain’t told ‘im what for. Seemed safer that way, fer him as well as me. I got a coupla suspects too, so I’m wantin’ ta get inta their personnel files, but I’ll need Oyaji fer that, an’ I’ll probably hafta give ‘im the gist of what I’m up ta fer that._ ”

“Well, I can say for certain he’s clean,” Shinichi said, “and his authority will probably give him some protection if they think he’s the one onto them. They’re more likely to try to disappear than silence him, since that’s simply too high-profile, but you’re another story, chief’s son or not.”

“ _I know. Still, I ain’t lettin’ ‘em get away. Oi, did ya ever get ta Kuroba?_ ”

“Actually, no,” Shinichi said. “The Organization got to him first.”

“ _Shit. Ya mean he’s..._ ”

“No, no, he’s alive,” Shinichi said hurriedly, “just in hospital, and due to get out before too long. His injuries weren’t particularly serious, luckily. Still, it was a close call.”

“ _What happened?_ ”

“Hit-and-run framed to look like an accident in the course of a street race. His mother’s injuries are more serious, but she’ll live, thankfully. I hate to think how much farther he’d go if he had _both_ parents’ deaths to avenge.”

“ _...Geez, Kudo, I sure as hell got an interestin’ life after I met ya._ ”

“Which is why I’ve told you more than once that you’re better off forgetting about me before you get an interesting _death_.”

“ _Are ya kiddin’? What kinda pal would do that? Anyway, no sweat. Look after yerself, Kudo._ ”

“Isn’t that what I called to tell _you_?” Shinichi laughed.

“ _Yeah, but you have an interestin’ life too. Y’know how there’s a Chinese curse, ‘May ya live in interestin’ times’?”_

“I don’t think that’s the precise wording, but yes, I know what that curse means _very_ well.”

“ _Don’t slag the Osaka-ben. Anyway, I just got a bad feelin’ ever since the heist. Ya ever get that feelin’, Kudo? That li’l shiver that tells ya somethin’s about ta happen? Well, I got that feelin’, and if anythin’ happens it tends ta happen ta_ you _. So watch yer back._ ”

“I will if you do the same,” Shinichi said. “Keep your head down, Hattori.”

“ _Sure thing. I’d say the same for you if I thought ya needed ta..._ ”

“No height jokes or the next time I see you I tranq you.”

“ _Later, Kudo._ ”

Shinichi hung up and shivered. Yes, he knew that feeling. A few too many American movies made him inclined to call it his “tantei-sense”; that little alarm in the back of his brain that always went off a second before the body was found, the lights went off, the scream was heard; like a little notice left by Death to tell you that He was in town. He had that feeling now, and it was screaming.

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Aoko, Kami bless her and keep her, had made them bring him his laptop. Now Kaito had some distraction to assist him in his forced insomnia. At least the hospital had an internet connection, although he had to plug his laptop in for it, as wireless couldn’t be used. Still, it connected, which was what was important. It allowed him to do a little research. This could have been problematic, seeing as the hospital could see which sites he’d been on, if he hadn’t messed with his browser history to make it look like he’d been watching stupid movies, magic shows and Kid heists on YouTube.

 _Oh, very nice,_ he thought, flicking through the Beika Museum site. An underground vault estimated to have been hidden for over 500 years... that was a good place for a jewel to never see the moonlight...

Unfortunately, the most attractive target, an unusually large diamond, had been sent to Britain for examination; apparently it was suspected of being part of the English crown jewels that vanished in the thirteenth century. It was going to be examined and compared with historical documents and then, if it matched, it would be left in Britain as English historical property.

 _Which will make it harder for me to get,_ Kaito thought, _But if I’m planning to fly solo and disappear for a while, I can manage it..._ he’d already decided to vanish once he was released, and hang whatever explanations people came up with. He wasn’t worried about his mother’s safety; he’d noticed the people watching his room whenever the door opened to let a nurse or doctor through, and a subtle peek through the door late last night had proved that there were two nearby at nights as well. They weren’t Ravens, he could tell; they had the air of policemen about them, but were a little more subtle, a little more serious. He fingered them as Interpol or similar, which had two possibilities; they had noticed that the Syndicate was involved (likely, after that nurse’s arrest) or they guessed who he was (unlikely, because he wasn’t tied to the bed). They’d almost certainly keep an eye on his mother when he slipped away.

Luckily, he wasn’t going to have to slip out of the hospital; they were going to release him on New Years’ Eve, if his brain scans looked normal ( _Or as normal as_ my _brain scans get_ , he’d thought with a grin,) and then... maybe he wouldn’t leave Tokyo straight off, he just wouldn’t go home—they would be watching his house. Maybe he’d hang around at Jii’s. He’d also have to pick a target from that exhibition at the Beika Museum; Diamond or no, there was no _way_ Kid could pass up the chance to nose around in a haul like _that_. Besides, if they brought the diamond back, they might let their guards down since he’d already stolen from them once.

He sighed as he clicked back to his favourite search engine. He’d been to that museum a couple of times, and he already had something of a plan in mind. That left him with quite a bit of boredom still to kill. He opened Wikipedia.

_If I’ve got nothing more important to do, maybe I should learn a little more about a couple of mind-reading Meitantei..._

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Ginzo knew he should probably be in bed by now, but he couldn’t go over the reports on Kuroba-kun’s accident at the office any more without getting in trouble. He _knew_ that his unit was supposed to be Kid and Kid alone, but there was just something _wrong_ about the accident like there’d been something _wrong_ about Kuroba Toichi’s death. And he couldn’t investigate without his superiors finding out. Call it paranoia if you like, but he was fairly certain that a couple of the newest rookies were spying on him.

The special unit got rookies a lot. It was a job that involved a lot of night shifts and running, both of which were things they’d have to get used to as police, and encouraged them to think creatively (because they didn’t come much more creative than Kid) while involving enough being yelled at to give them a healthy respect/fear of authority. One of the other senior members of the unit—the rookies often changed, but his core of senior officers had been the same for twenty years—had joked that working under Ginzo was a good way to give the rookies the standard colourful policeman’s vocabulary. Perhaps what was most important, of course, was that in chasing Kid, even the most dim-witted rookies were unlikely to come to more harm than having a nap in the bathroom in their underwear or a stitch from chasing the thief up twelve flights of stairs or possibly finding themselves in a fetching pink ball gown (never mind the jewels, Ginzo would _never_ forgive the thief for that one). Still, Ginzo sometimes felt that the unit was viewed, as a whole, as a training ground and entertainment.

Well, he was still a police officer, and he had been for over twenty years. And he just couldn’t let something like this pass him by again. Was it so wrong to believe that catching murderers was more important than catching Kid? Catching the phantom thief may have been his job and life’s work, but if he had Kid and a murderer cornered and only one pair of handcuffs, Ginzo knew which one he would let fly. In fact, he had.

“ _Theft is a terrible crime, Nakamori-keibu, but the most terrible crime of all is the theft of a life. That is something that can never be returned or replaced._ ”

Yeah. That had been a strange heist, the last one before the Kid had disappeared for eight years. A couple of snipers had shot at Kid as he was escaping. They’d missed Kid, but an officer had been hit and killed. Kid had cornered one of the snipers and Ginzo had wasted no time in cuffing the bastard. Kid had flown after the second sniper, but he’d been too late—the arrested man’s brains were shot out as Ginzo took him back to a squad car. His superiors had never allowed Ginzo to pursue a full investigation of those snipers. It had annoyed Kudo as much as him. Not only were they getting away with murder, but if they’d missed Kid once, they’d almost certainly be back, and Ginzo wasn’t going to stand for that. He couldn’t condone murder in any form, but this was _personal_ ; the Kid had been _his_ target for twenty years. He was _his_ thief, _his_ rival... and perhaps could be tentatively called a friend.

_Why had he come into the office? Maybe he was hoping for a Kid notice, something for him to think about or do, something to fill the void ever since he’d had to come back from the hospital alone and inform his five-year-old daughter that her mother wouldn’t be coming home after a few days this time. Akane wouldn’t be back ever._

_He hadn’t known what to do with Aoko. She kept asking if she could go to the hospital, maybe she could convince her mother to come back. In the end, Chikage and Toichi had offered to look after Aoko for a day or two while Ginzo took care of funeral arrangements and such. And he’d done all of that, but he just couldn’t bring himself to go back to an empty apartment. So he’d come here, to the condolences and odd quietness of the unit._

_One of the younger men cleared his throat. “Nakamori-keibu... there’s, um, a message for you.” Ginzo looked up as the officer placed a large glass vase containing a huge bunch of black roses on his desk. There was a card attached with a length of black ribbon._

_“_ My deepest condolences for your loss, Nakamori-keibu. Now go home. Your daughter’s lost her mother, she might at least have a father. If you don’t, I may well have to take a break. If I’m not stealing anything, you have no reason to be at the office instead of at home with your daughter, do you?”

_The card was signed with the characteristic caricature, but it wasn’t grinning as usual. It was frowning sadly, a little teardrop was drawn on the tag to the monocle, and it was wearing a black hat instead of white. Ginzo had stared at it for a long moment before laughing quietly and going to the Kuroba’s to get Aoko._

Eventually, of course, Kid returned to action and so did Ginzo, and over the years he often worried that he had slid back into spending more time at work than at home—a habit that had allowed Akane to hide her illness until it was too late. But his relationship with Aoko might have become so much worse if Kid hadn’t pushed him to go home. Then someone had started shooting at Kid on his heists, and Ginzo had happily accepted capturing these snipers as being under his jurisdiction. No-one was going to shoot the Kid on _his_ watch. Evidently, however, someone had nearly managed it off of it.

He’d wondered, often, about how Kid knew so much about him, and his disappearance had coincided with Toichi’s death—but no, Kid was back, and Toichi was dead, wasn’t he? Subconsciously, he blocked the possibility of a second Kaitou Kid. That was part of why he’d been so angry at Hakuba for suggesting that Kid was a high-schooler; that lead him to one target, DNA information or not. So the chase resumed, and no-one was going to pull Ginzo off of it, or the investigations into the tragic and in one case fatal accidents that had befallen a family that was so close to his as to practically be part of _his_ family. His superiors could make all the complaints they wanted about it not being part of his jurisdiction, but they couldn’t very well fire or demote him. They knew as well as he did that if any officer (Hakuba and that creepy Edogawa kid didn’t count, they weren’t employed by the Met) would be able to catch Kid, it was him.

For now, he was happy to keep up the entertainment front of pursuing Kid if it meant he could find whatever dark figures were hunting the white thief, no matter what his superiors said. If he had been the paranoid or conspiratorial type, he may have wondered _why_ his superiors weren’t willing to look the other way in order to see justice done. He may just have come up with the vague, crazy thought that maybe, just maybe, they had some reason to _not_ want the snipers caught.

 _Lucky for the Ravens that Nakamori has already proved himself to not be a particularly suspicious type,_ she thought, smiling wryly, _But he has proved himself the fiercely loyal type, which can be just as much trouble... as it’s already clear that his first loyalties do not lie with his superiors..._ _Really, this gets more fun every day..._

The Shadow Syndicate had operated in perfect secrecy for a long time— _too_ long. Such secrecy is only maintainable for so long, and then it gets too big, controls too much, and some quiet little mind realizes that much of the scum and villainy it sees is connected, and then before too long several quiet little minds meet on their way to the centre of the web and it’s only a matter of time before Moriarty goes over the waterfall. And no matter how many snakes Medusa has in her hair, cut off her head and they will all wither and die.

The Syndicate was at the point where a _lot_ of quiet little minds had noticed them. She’d have a hard time keeping an eye on them all if she needed to sleep. Lucky that she didn’t, not if she didn’t want to.  But in the end, only one of those quiet little minds was necessary. Only one Silver Bullet was needed to kill the beast.

And the hunt had begun.


	29. A Time of Peace

“We’re finally allowed to see him!” Aoko said, sprinting down the hospital corridor towards Akako and Saguru. “They’re releasing him tomorrow if he promises to keep his cast on. They’re taking the sling off just now. C’mon!”

Saguru followed her down the corridor in a state of mild apprehension. He had questions for Kuroba, but he couldn’t ask them in front of the girls, which meant dealing with a stir-crazy and possibly morphine-full Kuroba until it was time to leave and he could find some excuse to hang back. At least Kuroba almost certainly didn’t have any of his magic apparatus in the hospital with him.

As he entered, he walked into the back of a glowing red Aoko. A second later, he realized what had stopped her in his tracks. Kuroba had his shirt off while a nurse unwrapped the sling, and he was flirting cheekily and pointing out his muscle tone. Saguru wasn’t particularly surprised by that; Kid had to be fit to pull off the acrobatic stunts that he did. What threw him was...

“Oh my,” Akako said in mild surprise. “Kuroba-kun... where did you get all of those _scars_?”

“Magic tricks can go pretty badly wrong,” he said, awkwardly retying his hospital kimono over the network of thin scars on his chest and shoulders with his good hand and thickly bound wrist. “And when you’re training doves to hide in your clothes, they can get pretty pissed off when they get uncomfortable. They have _claws_ , y’know.”

Saguru gulped down and bile and nodded, pretending to buy Kuroba’s explanation. But he knew that thin, straight scars or perfect circles weren’t generally the result of an angry bird. He knew bullet wounds when he saw them, and Kuroba had more than any policeman Saguru had ever met.

They mostly seemed to be scrapes, from the brief moment that Saguru had seen them, near misses that were mainly on his arms and shoulders in a pattern that suggested at least the part-time wearing of a bulletproof vest, but there were at least two that seemed to have gone right through him, and the thick scarring showed that they hadn’t been properly treated; he’d had to treat them himself, in order to avoid exposing himself and getting a few more bullet holes…

“So how’re you feeling?” Aoko asked, sitting down on the chair next to the bed.

“Well, I’m pissed of that they’ve still not caught the son of a bitch in the car,” Kaito said casually, “but they haven’t taken me off the painkillers yet, so I’m still feeling pretty high. Geez, it’s good to talk to someone. Doctors and nurses have to be some of the most uncommunicative automans in Japan. Hey, did you bring food? You know, something that doesn’t look like it’s already been eaten? Twice?”

“I brought onigiri, but don’t tell the nurses,” Aoko said, pulling a Ziploc bag with the rice balls in it out of her bag, glancing over at the door to check that the nurse was well and truly gone. “Hey, did they tell you that they’re going to release you tomorrow?”

“Really? Sweet,” Kaito said, stuffing an onigiri into his mouth whole. “Aw, crap, I just realized... Okaa-san left washing-up in the sink to do when we got back... it’ll be _alive_ by now.”

“Poor Kuroba-kun, locked in a battle to the death with the remnants of his Okaa-san’s sushi,” Akako crooned. She glanced over at the comatose woman. “I do hope she wakes up soon.”

“Thanks,” Kaito said, unusually quiet.

“Me too,” Saguru said. “If only because it’s simply not healthy to live on takeaway for any length of time. From what I saw in Osaka, I doubt you’re getting into the kitchen any time soon.”

“Are you kidding?” Kaito said. “Cooking and I are mortal enemies.”

“Actually, Kaito, when you get out,” Aoko said, “do you want to come to ours for New Year’s? Otou-san said it was all right, and I’d feel really bad if you were alone at New Year’s...”

Kaito paused for a moment in his pigging out, swallowed and said, surprisingly gently, “I’d love to.”

“Would you mind terribly if I swung by at some point, Aoko-chan?” Akako said sweetly. Kaito looked at her suspiciously.

“Are you stalking me again?” he demanded. Akako shook her head with a little laugh.

“I don’t _stalk_ you, Kuroba-kun,” she said. Saguru caught Kaito’s eye and they shared a rare look of understanding. “I simply want to wish you both a happy new year and see your fortunes for the year.”

“Aren’t you going to relative’s for New Year, Akako-chan?” Aoko said. “I know you live alone, so I thought you’d want to go to your family...”

“I don’t have any, Aoko-chan,” she said simply. “I normally spend New Year’s on my own...”

“What?” Aoko said in shock. “That’s terrible! Nobody should be alone at New Year’s! Of course you can come over! You can watch the first sunrise with us!”

“That’s so sweet of you, Aoko-chan,” Akako said, giving Aoko a beautifully sculpted smile. Saguru saw Kaito press a button on his bedside table, presumably connected to his painkiller drip.

“What about you, Hakuba-kun?” Aoko asked.

“Me?” Saguru said in surprise. “Well... I normally spend it with my mother, but of course I’m not in England this year... baaya’s going to her daughter’s and Father’s on duty that night, so... I guess I’m on my own too.”

“No _way_!” Aoko cried.

“Looks like we’re going to make a right little party out of it,” Akako said, smiling at Kaito. He sighed, rolling his eyes, and then burst into a wide, cheeky grin.

“Hey, we could do our first temple visits together too,” he said. “I wanna see what happens when Koizumi-san tries to enter a holy place...”

“ _Kaito_! That’s _rude_!” Aoko said crossly, slapping him on the shoulder. The baka just sniggered as they started sniping at each other. Akako sauntered away from the argument to talk to Saguru.

“Well, this ought to be fun,” she said. “Looking forward to a new year with friends?”

“Uh... yeah,” Saguru said, a little surprised that he really was looking forward to tomorrow. He wasn’t that used to having friends. His intelligence and biracial status had set him apart from the very snooty children in the posh schools that he’d attended in England, and his constant travel between England and Japan throughout High School had only made forming close friendships even more difficult. But he _definitely_ considered Aoko a friend, and he even counted Kuroba and Koizumi if you pushed him—or at least, he’d tolerate them for Aoko’s sake. “Yes... I really am.”

Akako smiled strangely, and after a moment Saguru realized that the strangeness was because it was a _genuine_ smile, not a malicious smirk, lascivious grin or thin token smile. It suggested real happiness, and it suggested that she knew _exactly_ what he meant.

“Yes,” she said softly, “me too.”

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Ran hummed _Amazing Grace_ happily as she walked away from Agasa-Hakase’s. Conan had spent most of yesterday fighting to stay awake, trying to get his sleep cycle back on track, and even this morning he was still so dozy that Ran had had to remind him to get the Christmas presents he’d brought back for his friends. Ran sometimes felt that he should be with his family, but she was glad that he was around, all the same, and she understood why he wanted to stay in Japan—it was so hard for children to leave their friends behind, she knew. Still, she wasn’t complaining.

“ _Mori Ran!_ ”

Ran yelped in surprise as a wrathful-looking Sonoko appeared before her. “S-Sonoko?”

“Why didn’t you _tell_ me?” Sonoko said angrily, loud enough to draw stares from passersby. “I thought we were best friends! And yet I have to find out from Hidaka-chan!”

“Find... out...?” Ran said, a little warily. Sonoko snorted angrily.

“Yes, _she_ heard from Aizawa-kun and told me when we went shopping a couple of days ago,” Sonoko said. “Really, you could have said _something_ when I called! At the cinema you guys acted like it _wasn’t_ a date!”

“A da... oh. _Oh_ ,” Ran said, feeling herself blush as she realized just what Sonoko was talking about. “Well, it wasn’t... at _that_ point...”

“So is it true?” Sonoko demanded. “Hidaka-chan said that Aizawa-kun said that you guys were _kissing_ in Beika Park!”

“Um... yeah...?” Ran said, wondering at what point her face would get so hot that her eyebrows caught fire.

“ _Finally_!” Sonoko squealed, hugging Ran around the neck. “It’s about _time_ you two told each other how you felt! I mean, it’s only been obvious to the world and their dog since you were _six_...”

“Sonoko... air...!” Ran gasped. Sonoko let go of her neck and did a little dance on the spot.

“Oh, but it’s _wonderful_!” she sang. “I’m so happy for you two! Is he back for good yet?”

“No,” Ran said, looking down. “He... he still has to finish that case. But...” she smiled gently. “He promised that he’d be back for good when he did, and when that happens...”

“You’ll get married?” Sonoko asked. Ran squeaked, feeling her face go supernova. Sonoko’s jaw dropped. “Kami above, did he _actually_ propose? I was joking...”

“Ummm... not quite...” Ran stuttered, “b-but it’s... something I-I, I mean, and I-I kinda think he a-also, I mean, a-a-and...”

“So he’s proposing when he gets back?” Sonoko breathed, staring at Ran for a long moment before going into squealy meltdown. “Oh, I hope he gets back soon! All right, girl, you owe me a _full_ and _detailed_ account of that date. Don’t spare the details, even if they’re R-rated!”

“ _Sonoko_!” Ran groaned. Sonoko giggled madly, linking her arm through Ran’s to drag her along for a _long_ walk and talk.

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“You can come get him tomorrow evening,” the doctor said, shooing them away. “Visiting hours are _over_.”

“Just a moment,” Hakuba said, hanging back, “I need to ask him something.”

“You’ve been here five hours,” the doctor said crossly. “You couldn’t have asked him before?”

 _Probably not while the girls were here, no,_ Kaito thought apprehensively as the English boy protested.

“Look, I just remembered right now. Kuroba,” he called, “when you get the chance... I think Kudo-sensei wants to talk to you about your father. All right, I’m going,” he said testily to the doctor, who seemed on the verge of physically removing him from the room.

 _Kudo-sensei?_ Kaito thought, remembering the uncannily perceptive writer—as uncannily perceptive as his son and nephew. _Must run in the Kudo blood._

And if Kudo Yuusaku wanted to talk to him about his father, that meant only one thing. Kid. Kaito didn’t know what exactly Kudo Yuusaku knew or proposed to do about it, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to. He forced himself not to watch his mother’s heart monitors. He wasn’t going to get anyone else hurt on his account. Besides, he already had good reason to believe that Kudo Yuusaku had already had some experience with the Syndicate, though it was unlikely that he knew it.

Kudo Shinichi had vanished off of the face of the earth less than a week after the clock tower heist. He hadn’t just stopped solving cases—he had well and truly _vanished_ , not listed as involved in a single case since, house deserted, and a hell of an absence rate at school. And according to a newspaper report of the last case that he’d solved, two of the rollercoaster’s other occupants had vanished before the reporters could get their hands on them—“Two unidentified men in black”. Kaito had seen him since, so apparently the guy was alive, he just didn’t seem to want anyone to notice—particularly the Syndicate.

 _He’s done a hell of a job hiding himself, so I don’t really want to ruin that by leading them straight to him,_ Kaito thought. _I don’t need to drag him in, anyway. I’ve stolen a hell of a lot of stuff over the past couple of years, and I’ve been careful not to steal anything that Otou-san already checked, so the list of potentials is pretty small by now. I’ll have—and destroy—the Pandora soon enough, and then... being arrested won’t really be a problem at that point, so it’ll be easier for me to expose ‘em. I just need to run completely lone wolf for a while. I can do that. Afterwards... well, I’ll deal with that when it comes. The hardest part’ll be living through the wrath of Aoko and Nakamori-keibu. I... I can risk Aoko hating me forever. At least she’ll be alive to do it..._

He thought of Aoko’s “New Year’s Party” with a half-smile.

 _My last chance to shine as the good guy, huh?_ he thought. _After I take on the night job full-time... I can’t put off thinking about this any longer, things are never going to be the same between Aoko and me again. Worst case, she’s irreparably hurt and never forgives me. And if she’s capable of forgiving me... then we’re not just friends anymore, are we? I won’t be able to just mess around with her... or Koizumi and Hakuba... she’s creepy and he’s annoying, but they’re friends, and I’m gonna miss them. I’m gonna miss Jii-chan—no way in hell I’m getting him even more mixed up in this, he threw his back out dangling from the hanglider at the Purple Nail heist, it’s past time he retired. They’re not after him and it’s going to stay that way._ Kaito’s jaw tightened.

_This is between me and the Syndicate. Snake wants to chase phantoms... he’s getting a poltergeist._

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“I do worry about him,” Akako said quietly after they’d seen Aoko to her apartment, heading towards their own houses. “I feel a great apprehension for the coming year. Some dark wave will break.”

“Really,” Hakuba said politely. She glared at him.

“I should warn you, Hakuba-kun,” she said darkly, “the path that you’ve put yourself on will put you too in the path of the wave. It will be a difficult wave to weather and almost impossible to ride. I fear that you will both drown. But it is not too late for you, at least, to turn back.”

“I’m afraid I must decline,” Hakuba said lightly. “What man, when walking the path of knowledge, would turn back to ignorance?”

“What you know, you cannot un-know,” Akako warned him, “and what has been done cannot be undone. There is always a price to know something, and it cannot be refunded.” She looked up at the sky, closing her eyes. “And the price is even greater to forget.”

“I’ll take my chances on knowledge, thanks,” Hakuba said. “I wouldn’t be a detective if I didn’t. Sayonara.”

Akako watched him continue along the street, in the direction of his house, before passing through the gates of hers.

 _You do not understand how high it may be, the price you will have to pay, Hakuba-kun,_ she thought. _Still... I envy your courage. I have never been so brave. I would not be a witch if I was._

That was what being a witch meant; you lost your sorrow, your pain, your fear—your _memories_. Lucifer took them all and gave you power. Eternity of youth and beauty and power... the most wonderful things are the most difficult to achieve. Lucifer came only to those souls who were in such pain and torment that they had plumbed the very depths of themselves and found, at the very core of their soul, not strength but the pure, deep longing to make it stop, however you could, _any_ way you could. That desire called Lucifer, and this was your last chance: He could free you from your life, your memories, your pain, but the barrier between you and what he took could be broken by a single tear. The moment you cried a single tear, it would all come flooding back. Oh, you’d still have eternity, but it would be eternity trapped in your own worst memories and greatest fears, with the youkai that had once served you always whispering in your ear, bringing you ever more torment. There was no escape from that. Once you turned your back on Lucifer, He never returned.

 _The dark wave continues to rise,_ she thought, _and when it begins to break, people will die. The survivors will be torn apart, and I fear that they may not have the strength to withstand that..._ then she laughed coldly. _Or perhaps not everyone is as weak as I. Kuroba-kun and Hakuba-kun... perhaps they will have the strength to survive and heal. If they do not..._ She gripped her scarred wrist so tightly that the pale skin of her hand got even whiter as the circulation stopped. _I will strike them down myself before I see them damned to this purgatory._

“ _You can’t do it, can you? Life is too precious to you._ ”

 _I will,_ she thought stubbornly, brushing off her servant and heading to her room for an early night; perhaps her dreams could give her guidance. _I was weak for myself, but for them, perhaps... for them, could I be strong?_

The youkai watched her go with a worried face.


	30. New Year

“No, that won’t matter. If you’re right... yeah, it won’t matter. All right. Good luck.”

“What was that about?” Ai asked.

Shinichi yelped, having evidently not noticed her listening in on the end of his conversation. “How long’ve you been there?” he demanded.

Ai shrugged. “Didn’t sound like typical New Year’s well-wishes,” she commented. “Who was it?”

“Nosy much?” Shinichi muttered but added, “Hattori. He’s spotted a couple of Organization members in the Osaka Police, the ones who helped Sake escape at the museum. They’re a little suspicious of being watched, but they’re not watching _him_... yet... and they might not as long as he keeps his head down.”

“Really?” Ai said, suddenly feeling deeply worried. “Kudo-kun... police infiltrators generally aren’t very highly ranked in the Organization, because they’re most likely to be caught and so can’t know any valuable information to give away. If Hattori-kun’s not careful, he’s going to get killed capturing some people who aren’t going to be all that valuable. Is he aware of that?”

“Yeah, I told him,” Shinichi said, rolling his eyes slightly, “but he’s going to catch every Organization member in the Osaka PD anyway. He’s too devoted to the police to let them get away. I just hope he remembers to be careful. He doesn’t always, not when he’s on the trail of a criminal.”

“So you were advising kettle-san on colour schemes, were you, pot-san?” Ai said pointedly. Shinichi gave in to what she could only hope was the impulses of his child body and stuck his tongue out at her.

“Conan-kun! Ai-chan! We’re gonna be _late_!”

Ai smiled slightly as Shinichi hastily stowed his phone away as Ayumi dragged them both away by the arm. They were all going to the banks of the Teimuzu, from where they had a wonderful view of the New Year’s fireworks. Ai thought back, not to the year before, which she’d spent pretty much the same way, but to the year before that. She was still Miyano Shiho then, reeling in grief over her sister’s death. She had taken some time off to grieve, and hadn’t yet known that her sister’s death had been at Gin’s hands, nor had she begun to rebel against the Organization because they refused to tell her why. She’d forgotten all about the hypothesis that she’d developed about APTX 4869, the independent research that she’d been conducting on Kudo Shinichi and Edogawa Conan, just wondering _why_...

“ _She betrayed us, and that’s all there is to it. She deserved death, don’t you agree? Or are your loyalties divided?_ ”

She fought back the surge of anger that accompanied those cold words, hiding beneath her stoic mask. Her loyalties had not been divided, not after that. They had lain fully against the Organization that had killed her sister and almost certainly her parents as well, not that she remembered them. She’d studied in the best boarding schools in the world since first grade, and her parents had died in the middle of winter term when she was seven. It hadn’t been something that had bothered her hugely, as she hadn’t seen her parents since before she went overseas—at the behest of the Organization, she’d stayed in the schools and done holiday courses rather than going home, and her parents had never been able to visit, so she hadn’t seen them in two years anyway—but Akemi was another matter. She’d visited every holiday, and once she’d graduated high school she visited most weekends as well. They had written to each other weekly and later emailed daily. Her sister had been her best and only friend throughout her entire real childhood, and for the year between her early college graduation and Akemi’s death.

 _My real childhood?_ she thought, hiding her thoughts beneath a smile as Ayumi made her twirl—somehow, Ai had let the girl convince her to wear a cute little red flower-print kimono with a blue obi, which actually matched Ayumi’s pink-and-purple butterfly-print kimono  and red obi quite well. Ran giggled and told them they looked beautiful, while Genta and Mitsuhiko blushed and stuttered agreements. _Studying alone all the time... that’s not really a childhood. It’s like this is... the childhood I should have had...a_ normal _life..._

She caught Shinichi’s eye and he smiled softly. She realized that, quite naturally, she was smiling too.  Suddenly she laughed.

“Come on!” she cried, tugging at the hand of her best friend, abandoning her normal mature reserve. “Let’s get the best spot!”

Ayumi ran along with her, pointing out various spots and keeping up a lively running commentary about the pros and cons of each. Ai watched her, the boys who were batting one of Shinichi’s footballs back and forth as they followed, and their various chattering parents and guardians, including Ran “neechan” and her adoptive “great-uncle”—her family, like she’d never really known.

 _Onee-chan,_ she thought, _I miss you..._ so much _... but you’d be laughing right now, wouldn’t you? Saying “I told you so?” Because it’s strange, that even though I’ve got death hanging over my head every day, I’m getting nowhere with the antidote and I know I’ll never have the one I love... that’s my choice, still... but would it be strange to say that I think that, for the first time in my life... I’m happy?_

A child’s laugh, pure and true, rang out through the cold air of the dying year, beckoning all the possibilities of the new one.

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“What are you thinking about, Shinichi?”

Shinichi glanced up at Agasa-Hakase, then back at Haibara, who was letting Ayumi weave a snowdrop into her hair.

“It’s just a good thing to see,” he said, indicating the tiny scientist with a minor twitch of his head. “She’s normally scared or sad or hiding behind some stoic mask... I think this might well be the first time I’ve seen her genuinely happy.”

“I’m glad,” Agasa said, his moustache twitching as he smiled. “The poor girl’s been through so much.”

“I know,” Shinichi said. “If you hadn’t found her, she’d probably be dead now, and not necessarily at the Organization’s hands.”

“Would you really have thrown her out, Shinichi?” Agasa asked, the two of them falling back to have their conversation in relative private as everyone else started to spread blankets and sit down on the cold banking, even though it was still nearly an hour until midnight. “When I first took her in—would you really have insisted that she leave?”

“At first... maybe,” Shinichi admitted. “I didn’t trust that she wasn’t a spy or a trace—I don’t trust _anyone_ on face value. One of the socially negative aspects of being a detective. But when she mentioned her sister...” he looked down, pulling his glasses off and cleaning them, a motion that he didn’t do out of necessity but for something to do with his hands when he was discussing something serious. “Even though she seemed calm enough the first time, it gave me a strange feeling... like she was quietly crying for help. Then when she broke down... I knew there wasn’t a chance of her returning to the Organization. I also realized that I was wrong. She wasn’t crying for help. She was _screaming_.”

“I’m glad she’s had a chance to heal,” Agasa said, smiling. “A lot of that could probably be attributed to you, you know.”

Shinichi watched Ai chatting happily to Ran and shook his head. “It’s not me, you know,” he said. “I just saved her life a couple of times and bugged her for antidotes. I think it was the kids... Ayumi-chan especially. They’re good kids. They’ve been accepting and kind to her... and me. You don’t find that in many kids and even fewer adults. I think they’re about the only part of this mess that I’m going to miss.”

“Does mine ears deceive me? He actually _will_ miss this after all?”

Shinichi sent Evil Eyes at his parents as they wandered up, his mother waving crazily at Ran. “What’re you guys doing here?”

“Now, Shinichi, I know we’re hardly ever in Japan, but we _would_ like to see the New Year’s fireworks while we’re here,” Yuusaku said genially. “We were planning to leave on the fourth, though...” he glanced over to ensure that Ran and the others were well out of earshot, and Yukiko dragged Ran a little further away, immersing her in a high-speed girl talk which Shinichi got the uncomfortable feeling was about him. “It depends on how things go with Kaito-kun.”

“Yeah,” Shinichi said. “We’ll go talk to him sometime tomorrow... and I hope that we can start over. Because my resolution this year...” his glare hardened as he watched Ran and Haibara laughing together, remembering the promises that he’d made to Ran... and the promise he made to the false woman’s real face as she begged him, with her dying breath, not to let Them win.

“This year I’ll end it. No matter what.”

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“Wow, what a crowd!” Kazuha complained. Heiji grunted, trying to keep sight of his parent’s backs as they fought through the crowd gathering at the centre of Osaka for the New Year’s celebrations. “Aaah!”

Heiji glanced back to see Kazuha being pushed back by a passing group, nearly vanishing from sight. Pushing a couple of people aside a little more roughly than was perhaps necessary, he grabbed Kazuha’s hand, pulling her back over to him. Muttering a thankfully unintelligible stream of curses against crowds, he started pushing through the crowd to where their parents had vanished.

“Where’d they go?” Kazuha yelled over the noise.

“Dunno,” Heiji called back. “Let’s get outta the crowds an’ try ta call ‘em. There’s gotta be an alleyway or shopfront or somethin’ nearby...”

They started pushing through to the nearest building, still holding hands so they wouldn’t get separated, though the act was somehow making Heiji feel nervous. _Am I just worried she’s gonna slip away again_? Somehow, it reminded him of Bikunijima, and he increased his grip. Kazuha flushed.

Heiji finally burst out into a little bubble of emptiness under the awning of a closed shop, but people were pushing past, nearly tearing Kazuha’s hand from his. With a grunt, he pulled her past, but maybe he pulled a little _too_ hard. Kazuha finally burst through and cannoned into him. Heiji swore as he caught her, the force of her escape from the crowd knocking him backwards.

“Owww!” he complained. “Concrete ain’t good fer the ass... you all right? In one piece?”

“Umm... yeah.” Kazuha muttered, getting up, suddenly bright red. Heiji flushed too when he realized that she was lying on top of him and he was still holding her, and loosened his grip so she could get up.

“Ahh, is _this_ why you two slipped away in the crowd?”

The Kaitou Kid couldn’t move faster than they did as they shot to their feet at the sound of Hattori Shizuka’s voice. Bright red (Kazuha was, anyway; Heiji vaguely prayed that his dark skin tone hid his own heated cheeks), they were faced with the vaguely amused smiles of their parents.

“Freakin’ crowds,” Heiji complained. “We were just about ta call ya, once we’d gotten outta that lot.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the seething masses.

“Indeed,” Heizo said annoyingly. “Come on, then. We don’t want to miss the fireworks.”

“What’s with those smiles?” Kazuha muttered, cheeks still flaming. Heiji snorted, tugging at the peak of his cap- the one she’d given him for Christmas. He caught a flash of pink and gold in her hair- the ornament he’d given her.

 _Come ta think of it..._ he thought with a frown. _I ain’t properly told her about what happened in Kyoto when we were kids, did I? She seemed ta know about the girl I saw, but did I tell her it was her?_

He looked up at the sky, shrouded in a darkness that would be torn apart by fireworks in half an hour. _Maybe this year I oughta tell her it was her._ He watched her argue with her mother, her cheeks still flushed prettily in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. _That she was... My first love..._

For some reason, though, the “ _was_ ” part didn’t seem to fit.

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“Curse you, Kuroba-kun!”

“Don’t be a bad loser, Akako-chan. If it makes you feel any better, there’s a blue shell headed his way.”

“Crap! Unfair! I’m already at a disadvantage since I can’t use the wheel!”

“Don’t complain if you’re in first anyway... my apologies, second... third... fourth... fifth...”

“Shut it, Hakuba. _You’re_ in ninth.”

Kaito mashed buttons on the classic controller furiously, closely dodging a giant Piranha Plant as it came out of an inconveniently placed pipe. He’d ended up coming straight to Aoko’s. He’d been planning to head home for just a couple of minutes, check to see if any bugs, cameras or Nondescript Idling Cars (tm) were around his house, but when he’d had to say goodbye to his comatose mother, he was suddenly seized by a powerful need to be around people—he just couldn’t stand the thought of being alone, not yet. So he’d hung out at Aoko’s all day until Hakuba and Akako had dropped in eventually, spent dinner boasting about how he was going to waste them all, and then, to the amusement of all, had found that while he could use his wrist fairly normally, it was still fairly tender in the cast and thus the sharp jerks and twists required to play Mario Kart with motion-sensitive controllers were out of the question. Dammit, but he was _crap_ with the Classic Controller...

“That’s it,” he proclaimed as his Mii finished in sixth, only one place above Hakuba’s Mario, “I’m at least using the controller and nunchaku. I’m ambidextrous, and my left wrist is still fine...”

“You’re ambidextrous? Really?” Akako said, looking supremely unperturbed as Rosalina sailed in tenth. “You’re certainly a man of many talents, aren’t you?”

“It’s helpful for tricks,” he said with a shrug.

Ginzo laughed and got to his feet, switching off the Wii. “The celebrations start in about ten minutes,” he pointed out to their protests. “Congratulations, Aoko. You won the last match of the year!”

“I told you not to slag Daisy!” she said triumphantly, punching the air as she got up to wander over to the balcony. “We can see the fireworks from out here, you know. It’s a better view than they give you on TV.”

“You’re best to put on a coat, Nakamori-san,” Hakuba called, heading to the entryway for his, which was unfortunately his Inverness Cape. Kaito had taken one look at it and seriously considered fetching _his_ cape, Syndicate or no, just to see the look on Hakuba’s face. In the interests of a peaceful New Year, however, he stuck to the thick orange hoodie that Aoko had brought him, which was almost as good. Aoko’s English grades weren’t great, but Hakuba clearly understood the legend on the front in black, which was “New York State Dept of Correction: PROPERTY OF PSYCHOTHERAPY WARD 1412”. Hakuba had stared at it for a long moment, before rolling his eyes and wondering aloud if they had a number he could call to report lost property. Akako hadn’t yet seen the jumper...

... he thought. She was standing in the entryway, her black fur (from what, he didn’t dare ask) wrap already around her shoulders, holding up the hoodie and scrutinizing it with a blank look on her face, though Kaito knew perfectly well that she understood the English.

“So when were you in New York?” she asked, handing it to him. He stuck his head through the appropriate hole.

“I was there with one of Otou-san’s shows when I was a kid,” he said as he slid his left arm into the sleeve, “but one of his old friends who moved there a while back and still writes to Okaa-san sent this. He said he saw it and instantly thought of me.”

“I wonder why,” Hakuba said, heading for the balcony. Akako chuckled and followed. Kaito made to join them, but he was encountering difficulties with his right arm. He couldn’t bend his right wrist to get it into the sleeve. He tugged at the jumper with his left hand, grunting in annoyance, when to his surprise Aoko reached out and pulled the sleeve out straight, making it easier for him to get into.

“Um, thanks,” he said as he slid the offending arm into place, momentarily disarmed.

“No problem,” Aoko said with a gentle smile. “If you need help... don’t be afraid to ask.”

Kaito followed her to join the other three on the balcony, getting the odd feeling that she wasn’t talking about his wrist. He resisted the urge to sit on the railing—he was getting a little _too_ fond of heights these days—but just leaned against it on his left arm. It was still dark, but everyone fell silent as the last few minutes ticked away.

 _This year, everything’s going to change,_ he thought. He looked over at his friends, his sharp night vision allowing him to pick them out easily: Hakuba, flicking his hair back in that infinitely annoying little gesture and looking over Tokyo contemplatively; Akako, tugging her wrap closer around herself and looking not at the city but the stars, now visible as Japan turned off their lights to give over the darkness to the New Year’s fireworks; Nakamori-keibu, puffing quietly on his old-fashioned pipe and glancing at his watch; and Aoko, eyes shining as she scanned the sky for fireworks, so beautiful, so pure, so innocent, so _alive_...

 _And nothing is going to change that,_ ” he decided. “ _Aoko... I’m sorry, but I won’t ask for your help. I won’t drag you into this. You’re too sweet, too kind, and the Syndicate... they’re the complete antithesis. Your world and theirs don’t touch and I don’t want them too. I don’t want to see them taint and destroy your life like they did mine._

He looked up at the skyline, almost _feeling_ the lasts seconds tick away. _I’m sorry, but I’m going to finish this, and I’m going to do it alone. All I can wish for is that someday, long after it’s all over... you’ll someday bring yourself to forgive me._

Then the sky burst into light.

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“Were you going to spend the New Year alone, Eta?”

She smiled gently, not looking back at the speaker, leaning back against her bike as the fireworks heralding the New Year burst into life. “New Years are not so special when you have seen as many as we have,” she commented.

“But this year is a _special_ year,” he said, moving next to her, the dancing light of the fireworks dying him yellow one minute, then blue the next. But she knew what colour he would really be wearing. “It’s the ten thousandth year.”

“Then the long wait is almost over,” she said softly.

 “Can’t you feel it, Eta?” he growled. “We are running out of _time_.”

 _But we have had so much,_ she thought sadly, unwilling to say it aloud and restart the argument that had been shouted too many times already. _Too much._ Instead she smiled seductively and rested her hand on his shoulder.

“Then how about a little luck, Ushi?” she said, leaning up to press her lips against his. Perhaps this was the greatest torture—no matter how long it had been, how much had changed between them, how much _they_ had changed, the sensation still thrilled her to her core like nothing else ever had. For a moment they were back in time, newly in love, no fighting, no criminals, no shadows, just _them_ , forever and ever...

Maybe, at the end, it would be that way again. When the longest wait was over...


	31. Some Things Never Change

“Happy New Year indeed,” Miwako muttered.

“So what happened?” Takagi said, looking away from the nasty body as the coroner re-covered it. Miwako showed him her notebook.

“We got called half an hour ago,” she said. “The first people coming to the shrine for their New Year’s visit found the body. We haven’t got a positive ID yet, but the coroners are still searching his possessions. Other than that, we think it’s a young male.” Takagi shuddered. Miwako could understand why. The main reason that there had been no positive ID was that the man didn’t have much of his head left.

“But at the moment, this looks like an accident, right?” Takagi said. “Look, there’s a box of fireworks nearby, and the sparkler on the ground... Looks like he was just setting off some New Year’s fireworks and didn’t get away in time.”

“There’s a good chance of that,” Miwako agreed. “There’s a half-empty bottle of sake as well. If he was drunk, it’s very likely he had an accident... he probably looked into the tube to see if it was working. That would explain how he managed to blow his own head off.”

“What happened, Sato-keiji?”

“Hey, it’s the kids and Ran-kun,” said Takagi said in surprise. Ran was standing at the edge of the police tape with a worried expression, the five children crowded around her feet with expressions varying from curiosity  to Ai’s usual boredom and Conan’s usual disturbing expression of deep thoughtfulness. “Hey, what are you guys doing here?”

“I was taking the kids for our shrine visit,” Ran said. “Has something happened?”

“We think it was just an accident with fireworks,” Sato said.

“Umm, keiji-san... have you identified the victim yet?”

The two turned to face the worried-looking miko of the shrine, who had insisted on praying over the unidentified body. As Takagi remembered, she was Mochizuki Asuka, twenty-five, owner of the shrine. “We’re just looking through his belongings right now, Miko-sama...”

“Sato-keiji!” the coroner called. “We have his wallet here! It’s got his driving licence inside.”

“So who is he?” Miwako asked. The coroner flipped the wallet open.

“Kimura Mitsuro, twenty-four,” The coroner said. “There’s business cards for a carpentry business as well.” Asuka let out a scream of anguish and fell to her knees.

“Mitsuro?!” she screamed. “No, no...”

“You know the deceased, miko-sama?” Takagi said. She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Y-yes,” she sobbed. “He was... my boyfriend. Mitsuro... Kami above, then he didn’t come back because... because...” she collapsed into incoherent sobs.

“Didn’t come back?” Miwako said, flipping her notebook to a new page. “Miko-sama... when did you see him last?”

“W-we were watching th-th-the fireworks together,” she sobbed. “H-he said h-h-he had a surprise for me and l-l-left,-and then he d-didn’t come back...”

“This was at midnight?” Miwako asked. “That was eight hours ago. Didn’t you wonder why he didn’t come back?” Asuka shook her head.

“W-we’d been fighting r-r-recently,” she hiccoughed. “H-he was wanting t-t-to go to Hokkaido and h-he wanted me t-to move there with h-him, b-b-but I don’t w-want to leave the s-shrine... i-it’s been i-i-in our family for _g-generations_... I-I thought he w-w-was just t-trying to s-spite me...” she started sobbing heavily again.

“Quite the opposite, it seems,” Takagi said, taking something from the coroner, who was emptying the dead man’s pockets though leaving the remnants of his head covered. “Look.” It was a little jeweller’s box with a diamond ring inside. “I guess he wanted to surprise you with fireworks and the ring, but...”

“Was he drinking?” Miwako asked.

Asuka looked at her in surprise, shaking her head violently. “H-he never d-d-drank! _Never_!”

“Hey, get away from there!”

Miwako and Takagi turned as the coroner yelled angrily. Ran was hastily pulling Conan away from the dead man. “Really!” she was complaining. “Don’t sneak into accident scenes!”

“But I was surprised,” Conan said. “This guy’s really tough!”

“What do you mean?” Takagi asked.

“His hands!” Conan says. “Ran-neechan said we have to wear gloves when using big sparklers like that or we’ll burn ourselves, right? But this guy’s got no gloves and his hands are fine!”

Miwako narrowed her eyes, crouching down to pick up the man’s hand. It was indeed unburned—in fact, it was completely smooth and clean. _But I thought_...

“Sato-san?” Takagi asked as she picked up the sparkler.

“Look,” she said, “it’s burned down to the bottom, only a couple of centimetres above the handhold. If it burns down that far, the proximity of that kind of heat would burn your fingers without protection. The grass isn’t burned, so he was holding it until it burned out. At the very least, he should have ashes on his hand from the sparkler, which I’m guessing was used to light the firework. But the kid’s right—there’s nothing.” She frowned. _Yeah, he’s right,_ she thought. _He always is..._

“But then he didn’t light the firework, right?” Ayumi said thoughtfully.

“No, someone else did,” Ai commented. “This could well be murder.”

“Murder?!” Asuka shrieked. “Why would anyone _murder_ Mitsuro?!”

“Mitsuro? Kimura Mitsuro?”

The speaker was an older man, his thinning black hair with occasional silver streaks placing him in his fifties or so. He was also wearing what looked to be a _very_ expensive suit under his long coat, and his watch and the rims of his glasses were all gold. Asuka took one look at him and shrieked angrily.

“ _You_!” she yelled. “ _You_ were the one he was arguing with just yesterday! I saw you yelling at him!”

“Can you please explain to us your relationship with the deceased...?” Takagi said.

“Call me Sasaki,” the man said. “So Kimura’s really dead?”

“We’re investigating for murder,” Miwako said. “So if you please, Sasaki-san?”

“Oh, I get it,” he chuckled. “You wanna know if I had a motive for murder. Sorry, But what I got is the opposite. I’m his loan shark. He owed me big money—he borrowed it to set up that lame-ass carpentry business of his. I ain’t getting that money now, am I?”

“I see,” Sato said. “Hey, do we have a time of death yet?”

“It’s a little difficult due to the damage done by the firework,” the coroner said.

“It’s probably between midnight and one,” Takagi pointed out. “ _Everyone_ was setting off fireworks then, and this is pretty close to the shrine, so that’s the only time the miko wouldn’t have noticed the noise of the firework going off.”

“Unless she did it,” Sato said. Asuka glanced up in absolute shock.

“ _Me_?!” she screeched. “Why would _I_ kill Mitsuro?”

“Satoshi-kun might have an idea,” Sasaki said calmly.

“Satoshi?” Takagi said, stepping back from the body that he and Ran were trying to keep the five kids—especially Conan—away from. “Who’s Satoshi-san?” Asuka looked suddenly terrified.

“He’s an employee of mine, Fujiwara Satoshi,” Sasaki said, “and from what I can tell from his emails, he’s also her other boyfriend.”

Asuka was finally speechless.

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“Maybe we should go to another shrine,” Ran said. “There’s not really a public shrine nearby, but some people go to the Higurashi Shrine a little way away...”

“But we want to know who the murderer is!” Ayumi said.

“Yeah!” Genta agreed. “We’re the Shonen Tantei-Dan! We have to catch the bad guy!”

“So, any theories?” Ai said quietly to Shinichi, who had given up trying to get to the body and was instead sitting a little way away from the interrogation of the miko and the moneylender. “And why were you so desperate to get to the body?”

“There’s something about that body that’s been bugging me, but I can’t put my finger on it,” Shinichi said grumpily. “Anyway, so far it looks to be Mochizuki-dono or Fujiwara-san. They both have a motive, she’s got no alibi since she claims to have been waiting for Kimura-san alone and he seems to be out of contact. I wouldn’t peg the moneylender, since he’s got a stronger motive for Kimura-san being alive, otherwise, as he pointed out, he doesn’t get the money.”

“Since the other boyfriend’s vanished, he seems to be the prime suspect,” Ai said calmly. “This seems to be a pretty open-and-shut case. No need for your mental powers, Meitantei.”

“P-please!” Asuka cried. “Satoshi wouldn’t—I mean, it’s not like that—why are you reading his emails anyway?!”

“I’m his boss,” Sasaki said calmly. “It’s my legal right to make sure my employees ain’t slacking off. Imagine my surprise when my clerk turns out to be emailing his girlfriend, telling her to leave her boyfriend because his business is only getting by on massive loans that he ain’t repaying.”

“I’m afraid that our main suspects are you and Fujiwara-san, miko-sama,” Takagi said. “Unless you can explain why he’s vanished, or provide an alibi for yourself, we’ll have to take you down to the station for questioning.”

“No _way_!” Asuka screeched. “Yes, I hated that bastard—he told me to sell the shrine so he could pay off his loans! But I would never _kill_ him, I was just going to dump him...!”

“I think it must be the other boyfriend,” Mitsuhiko said thoughtfully. “Why else would he vanish unless he was hiding from the police?”

“This guy’s bloodstream’s thick with alcohol, Sato-keiji,” the coroner called. “He really did drink this stuff.”

“So it’s likely that the murderer got Kimura-san drunk, brought him here and blew his head off with the firework,” Sato said thoughtfully. “The lack of gloves or burns shows that he didn’t light the firework himself. Takagi-kun, can you put out a warrant for Fujiwara Satoshi?”

“Hey, what are you guys doing?”

Shinichi was pulled out of his desperate memory-picking in surprise at Ran’s yell. Genta and Mitsuhiko were quickly backing away from the gate to the shrine.

“We’re bored of waiting,” Genta groaned. “This isn’t a mystery. We wanna get our New Year’s fortunes and go eat soba!”

“Yeah, but you can’t break into a shrine to do it, Genta-kun,” Mitsuhiko reprimanded him. “It’s a holy place!”

 _Is that what’s bugging me?_ Shinichi thought, watching the miko yelling at the cops. _She seems pretty devoted to the shrine. I’ve seen her around here the past couple of years, and she doesn’t seem to do much else... she certainly keeps it in great shape for such an old shrine. If she lives here alone, she must devote a lot of time to it. If she’s putting that much work into it and dumping her boyfriend over it, would she really allow it to be polluted by murder? Besides, there’s nothing she would gain from his death that she wouldn’t get out of simply breaking up. Unless she’s lying, they were already separated and he was blackmailing her for something..._

His frown deepened. _The missing Fujiwara-san is bugging me as well... if he murdered a guy for her, why would he leave her to take the rap? And if he was certain that it would come off as an accident, why would he run? That just makes him look_ more _suspicious..._

“That’s your own fault, Genta-kun!”

“But it _stiiings_!”

“Huh?” Shinichi said, glancing over at Genta as the larger boy cradled his hand to his chest. Mitsuhiko was shaking his head and Ayumi was helping Ran to find a bandage in her bag.

“He gave himself a blister trying to pull the gate open,” Ai said.

“It’s because you don’t do a lot of hard work,” Ran said, applying the plaster.

“Yeah, it’s your punishment for being lazy,” Ayumi giggled.

“No, no,” Ran said soothingly as Genta glared and Mitsuhiko sniggered. “If you don’t do a lot of physical work, then your hands stay soft and blister easily. Look.” She held up her hand.

“Hey, your skin’s all hard!” Ayumi exclaimed, tapping Ran’s fingers.

“That’s from doing karate,” Ran said. “Doing tough things like that toughens your hands up.”

_Hands...?_

“That’s it!” Shinichi hissed, suddenly shooting past the surprised police who were starting to move the body, unzipping the body bag and grabbing the dead man’s hand before anyone had realized that he had moved.

“Conan-kun?!” Ran yelled. Shinichi ignored her, pressing the hand.

 _I see,_ he thought. _That’s what was bugging me..._ His gaze focused on the wrist.

“Conan-kun!” Takagi said, picking Shinichi up and pulling him away. “You have to leave the body alone. We need to send it to the morgue for a more thorough autopsy...”

“Ran-kun, you’d better get them out of here,” Sato said. “We’re just cleaning up the crime scene anyway...”

“Awww, but we want to see you catch the murderer!” Mitsuhiko complained.

“We’ve put out the warrant for Fujiwara-san,” Sato said. “He’ll be taken to the station, not here...”

“He didn’t do it and neither did I!” Asuka sobbed. “ _Stop blaming us!_ ”

“Her faith is touching,” Ai said calmly as Takagi set Shinichi down next to her, “but there’s no-one else it could be...”

“But there is,” Shinichi said quietly.

“What?” Ai said, wearing an expression of very faint surprise.

“I think we’ve been making a terrible mistake...”


	32. A Study In Scarlet

“So what’d you wish for?” Aoko asked, yawning slightly as they wandered away from the little shrine in Ekoda.

“If I tell you mine, you have to tell me yours,” Kaito said.

Aoko squeaked, going pink. “Never mind!” she said quickly.

“Awwww...” Kaito said, grinning like a fool. “What about you guys?” he asked, turning to the other two.

“I wished that _someone_ would stop causing so much trouble,” Hakuba said, glaring at Kaito, who just waved.

“I didn’t make a wish,” Akako said distantly. “I have no use for such empty frivolities, not when I have _other_ ways to get what I want.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Kaito asked. “Actually, I am surprised. How’d you get inside the temple? I thought you would’ve burned up on the threshold or something.”

“Hmph,” Akako snorted, looking away haughtily. “In any case, I had better return home.”

“New Year’s de-purification ritual?” Kaito suggested. She snorted again, but her cheeks pinked a little, so Kaito became worryingly suspicious that he may be right.

“Regrettably, I believe I must part from you as well, as entertaining as it’s been,” Hakuba said, checking his watch. “Baaya insisted that I return for New Year’s dinner, and if her decrees are not obeyed my Conan Doyle collection has the unfortunate habit of vanishing. Well then...”

“I’m so glad that you spent New Year’s with us, though!” Aoko said happily. “It was so much fun!”

“It was, indeed,” Hakuba admitted with a soft grin. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Me, too,” Akako said. “Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year,” Hakuba said, as they both turned to the street leading to the district of large, western-style houses where they lived.

“Happy New Year!” Kaito and Aoko called after them, heading on to their houses.

“I think I’ll head for home,” Kaito said, stretching. “I need clean clothes and to fight the mutant dishes.”

“I’ll help—” Aoko began, but Kaito cut her off.

“Actually, Aoko,” he said gently, “I think I need to be alone for a while. No mistake, it was a load of fun hanging out with Hakuba and Koizumi and you for New Year’s, that was a great idea, but... I need some downtime, you know? I just think I need to be on my own for a bit. Anyway, you were going to go visit Akane-Obasan’s grave, right?”

“Well, yeah, but...” Aoko always visited her mother’s grave on New Year’s and her birthday as well as her deathday, something which she always did alone, but she looked uneasy. “I mean, I wouldn’t _mind_ you coming with, if... are you _sure_ you’ll be all right?”

Kaito was surprised. Her grave visits were made alone by her own personal choice; when Akane had first died, Aoko had been too young to understand properly, and had often sneaked off to the grave alone, thinking that her mother might have woken up and be waiting there. Her habit of visiting alone had stayed with her; perhaps she felt that it was a sort of ritual between her and the mother that she barely remembered, a way of clinging on to the few memories that would only grow fainter with time. That she was willing to share this ritual...

 _She must be really worried about me,_ Kaito thought. _No surprise. After all, obasan went into the hospital and never came out... this has to be the worst kind of déjà vu for her. Kaa-san’s treated her like a daughter since Obasan died..._

Outwardly, however, he just shook his head. “Really, Aoko,” he said. “I don’t want to intrude on you and obasan.”

“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Aoko insisted. Kaito brought up a grin.

“That means a lot,” he said softly. “But... I do need to be alone for a bit. I will be fine, though. Really. Don’t worry about me. Hey, I’ll come hang at yours later, if it makes you feel any better, ‘kay?”

“...’kay,” Aoko said, not appearing to brighten up much. “I’ll see you, then.”

“Tell obasan Happy New Year from me,” he called as he walked away.

“Happy New Year,” she called after him, lingering a moment before heading towards the cemetery in the opposite direction.

Kaito watched her go out of the corner of his eye. Then he headed for home, not via the main streets but the back alleys.

Sure enough, there was a car parked across the road from his house. It was silver, not a new model but not an old model either, the licence plate a calculatedly dull combination that wouldn’t stick in anyone’s mind. Everything about the car was utterly unnoticeable and unmemorable, which made Kaito very suspicious. It was empty, but if it was a Syndicate car then there would be cameras on it. So instead of going to his front door, he took a long detour to come to the back of his house. He didn’t have any of his sensors on him to make sure, but there didn’t appear to be any bugs or cameras around the back fence. Still, why would there be? There wasn’t an entrance back there.

 _You thought, you thought,_ Kaito thought with a grin as he quickly shimmied up the drainpipe—something that he worried slightly about doing in broad daylight, but it was lunchtime on New Year’s day so few people, if any, would be out to see—to the one window that _,_ thanks to a clever little series of mirrors, appeared to look into his bedroom. It wasn’t a foolproof setup—had it been on the ground floor Hakuba would probably have spotted it in a flash, Kaito’d _seen_ the creep pacing off the ground floor whenever he’d come over ostensibly for homework purposes—but it would only really be noticed if you were looking for it. Rather like that car out front.

He flicked on the lights of the “Kaitou-cave” ( _definitely_ too many American comics) and slipped over to the desk.  There was a nondescript sports bag underneath which Kaito loved because it was tough, lightweight and apparently built with Tardis technology, if the amount of gear he could fit into it was any indication. Within minutes he’d packed his suit, his gun, his laptop and the disks that he’d typed up pretty much all of his father’s folders into, as well as information of his own. He didn’t waste space on smokebombs and the like—there was a secondary supply of those at Jii’s, and the elder had been looking after Kaito’s doves during his hospital so they were there as well. Instead, he packed a few things that he didn’t always carry, such as his binoculars, his CB, a bug detector and a white noise generator. He wasn’t going to be back for a while, possibly until Snake was cooling his heels in jail, so he needed to have all of his gear with him.

Switching the lights off again and trying not to wonder when he’d next be in his own house, he slipped down the drainpipe again and, with the bug detector beeping slowly and contentedly in his pocket, made his way to the Blue Parrot, detouring just long enough to set off an e-bomb in the car, shorting out the cameras which for the last few days would have caught Aoko going in and out of his house.

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“I think we’ve been making a terrible mistake...” Shinichi said quietly.

“What do you mean?” Ai said in surprise.

“We’ve been misled,” Shinichi said. “By a driver’s licence and a missing face...”

“You’re not saying...” Ai murmured.

 _Here goes nothing..._ Shinichi thought. Then he yelled, “You’re a liar, Ran-neechan!”

“What?” Ran said in shock.

“You said people who do tough stuff get tough hands,” Shinichi complained plaintively, “but that ojisan’s a carpenter and his hands are all smooth!” Sato’s back stiffened.

“The kid’s right,” one of the forensics guys said. “We thought it was kinda odd. There were only a couple of calluses.”

“Where?” Sato demanded.

“Ring finger and inner wrist of the right hand,” the man replied, referring to his clipboard.

“Huh?” Takagi said. “But those aren’t carpentry calluses. Those are the sort you get from a desk job.”

“You get calluses from a desk job?” Mitsuhiko said in surprise.

“Sure,” Takagi said. “Some people balance their pen on their ring finger when they write, so if they write a lot then it’s quite common to get a callous like that.”

“That’s true,” Ran said, holding her hand out. “Look. I have one like that from studying.”

“In a similar vein, that callous on the inner wrist sounds like the sort you get from doing a lot of mousework,” Takagi said. “If someone’s on the computer, the inner wrist is generally resting on the mousemat, and it can get callused if you’re there often or for a long time...”

“But that can’t be right,” Sato said. “Kimura-san was a carpenter, not a clerk...”

“Maybe he was trying to win miko-sama back,” Shinichi suggested, “by being a clerk just like Fujiwara-san!”

“What?!”

Shinichi was starting to wonder if he’d been a little too sharp. The three kids, Ran, all of the cops and the two suspects just confused. But then Sato and Takagi exchanged a look.

“Sato-san,” Takagi said. “What if...”

“Are they checking his fingerprints?” Sato said.

“It’ll be the first thing we do once the body’s at the morgue,” the forensics guy said, “so can we send it?”

“Do that,” Sato said, “and in the meantime, I think we need to be looking for Kimura Mitsuro.”

“M-Mitsuro?” Asuka said in tearful confusion. “But he’s right _there_! He’s _dead_!”

“We have a dead body here, yes,” Sato said, “but it may not be Kimura-san. We only assumed that because of his driver’s licence... something that could easily have been planted.”

“What makes you think it ain’t Kimura?” Sasaki said. “Although I’m sure you’ll know for sure once the prints get back.”

“It’s the hands,” Takagi said. “Conan-kun was right. They’re too smooth for a carpenter. The only calluses that this body has are the kind that result from extensive paperwork. We don’t know for certain, yet, but I suspect that the body may in fact be that of Fujiwara Satoshi.”

“Bingo,” Shinichi whispered under his breath. “It is _so_ much easier to work with these guys than Occhan...” Ai gave him a faintly amused look.

“What?!” Asuka shrieked, degenerating into fresh sobs. “Satoshi—no—no...”

“Fujiwara?” Sasaki said, suddenly paling. “Hold it. Who’d kill Fujiwara an’ make it look like it was Kimura?”

“Only one person benefits from the combination of Fujiwara-san’s disappearance and the appearance of Kimura-san’s death,” Sato said, “and that’s Kimura-san himself.”

“I get it!” Mitsuhiko cries. “That ojisan already said it—if Kimura-san’s dead, he doesn’t have to pay his debts, so if everyone _thinks_ he’s dead it amounts to the same thing, right?”

“And he gets bitter revenge on miko-sama for betraying him and Fujiwara-san for stealing her away!” Ayumi said, perhaps a touch overdramatically.

“The question is where he went now,” Ai said. “He can’t leave Japan unless he already has a fake passport—using his own or Fujiwara-san’s would be noticed by the police.”

“He talked about going to Hokkaido, is that right, Asuka-san?” Sato said. “I think we’d better contact the police there...”

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“I suppose it doesn’t need to be complex,” Kaito commented, half to Jii and half to himself. “The Sapphire’s not really the target. Making them let their guard down and drawing Them out is. It’ll be nice to have the Sapphire, though. Mmmm...”

“When are you going?” Jii asked.

“Two days,” Kaito said. He ignored the blanch that crossed Jii’s face for a moment. “I don’t want to spare any time, and... it seems appropriate. Anyway, I’m going to be hiding out here until then, since they’re watching my house.”

He stared at the page for a long moment, before picking up his pen and starting to carefully write in perfect calligraphy.

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“Really? All right. Send him back here.”

Miwako put her phone away and nodded to Takagi. “Kimura-san wasn’t prepared for police pursuit. An officer got on to every train arriving in Hokkaido and announced that they were looking for Kimura Mitsuro, and it seems the idiot panicked the second he heard his name.”

“He confessed?” Takagi said in surprise.

“He gave himself away so easily, he was easy to pressure into confession, apparently,” Miwako confirmed. “He got Fujiwara-san to go drinking with him under the pretence of discussing miko-sama and his loan repayments. Once Fujiwara was stinking drunk, it wasn’t hard to get him to look down a lit firework. The motive seems to have been pretty much what the kids said. He’d hoped that the deception wouldn’t be found out until he’d left the country.”

“Hey, if he’s goin’ to jail, am I getting my money?” Sasaki demanded. Asuka had finally been allowed to return to the shrine after going into full-on hysterics and collapsing upon the fingerprint report confirming that the dead man was indeed Fujiwara Satoshi, but the moneylender had stayed behind, clearly intent on settling the financial situation.

“We’ll sort something out,” Miwako said reassuringly.

“Wow... so the dead guy was the murderer?” Ayumi commented. Oh yeah, the kids had hung around as well, to Ran’s very visible worry.

“You know who did it now,” Ran pointed out, “So shouldn’t we go find another shrine to make our New Year’s wishes at?”

“Oh, you kids can stay and help with the investigation if you want,” Miwako said, an idea suddenly striking. “You can start by helping with the paperwork...”

“Aaah!” Genta cried. “It’s the holidays! I’m not doing _work_! C’mon, guys, let’s go make our New Year’s wishes! I wanna wish for teriyaki!”

“How about something other than food?” Mitsuhiko said as the kids turned to leave. Conan smirked as Ran sighed in relief. Ai gave Miwako a disturbingly understanding smile as she left.

“I only wish that you were making that up to shake the kids off,” Takagi sighed.

“Me too,” Miwako said. “Still, at least that means we’ve caught the killer.”

“We couldn’t have done that without the kids’ suggestions, though,” Takagi pointed out. “It was Conan-kun that properly identified the body, and they all deduced the motive pretty sharply. Without them, we wouldn’t have realized that we had the wrong guy until it was too late to find him.”

“They’re all sharp kids,” Miwako said. “If they decide to go professional together after high school, we’re going to be out of work.”

“First Hattori-kun and Kudo-kun, now five grade-schoolers... what are they feeding kids these days?” Takagi sighed. “Still, I wouldn’t mind them taking over the homicide department if it meant no paperwork. I was going to ask you if you wanted to go do your shrine visit with me...” he blushed slightly. Miwako smiled a little. He was so cute when he did that...

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “We’ll do that later,” she promised, “and wish for no paperwork.”

“Amen to that,” Takagi said with a happy grin.


	33. A Riddle Within An Enigma

_Rainbow... so blood means red... a jewel that is anything but red..._

Saguru tapped his fingers idly on the desktop as he regarded the Kid’s latest riddle. It worried him slightly. He hadn’t seen Kuroba for the past two days, since New Year’s, and neither had Aoko, though the old man Jii had spoken to him and apparently Kaito had gone on an overnight trip to Kyoto, to visit a magician who was an old friend of his father’s who had invited him out. So there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for why Kuroba hadn’t been around for the past couple of days that had nothing to do with the stalker outside of his house.

Saguru had been to Kuroba’s house a couple of times since New Year’s only to find it empty, and had become suspicious when, the second time he returned, there had been an idling car—not unusual, of course, but this car’s license plates were identical to the plates of a different car that had been on the street the day before. Both cars were fairly unmemorable—a little _too_ unmemorable, the suspicious tantei part of him said—but Saguru’s memory was eidetic, useful in murders that required the recall of things most people never noticed, let alone remembered, to solve. Two cars could not have the same number, he knew, unless for whatever reason one set of plates was untraceable and was therefore being reused. His suspicions were confirmed when he ran into Kudo Yuusaku and a very pale-faced Edogawa Conan nearby.

_“Is he there?” Yuusaku asked, no clarification of who “he” was necessary._

_“No,” Saguru said. “The story is he’s visiting a friend in Kyoto overnight, plausible given that he hasn’t been home the past couple of days...”_

_“Like he’d come back when_ They’re _watching the place,” Conan muttered. “I’m telling you—that’s one of Their cars. I’ve seen the plates before. Saguru-niichan, you’d better not keep coming back here.”_

_“The car’s empty,” Saguru pointed out._

_“Because someone sitting in a car all day would draw notice, while a car sitting empty all day wouldn’t,” Yuusaku said. “No doubt it’s bugged, or has cameras—most likely both. They’ll notice that you’ve come more than once. You don’t want to draw their suspicions, especially if you’re ignoring my advice and continuing with your own investigations.”_

_“Of course I am,” Saguru snorted. “Anyway, a riddle’s gone out so he’ll be in Tokyo by the time of the heist, at least, wherever else he may be in the meantime...”_

_“A riddle?” Conan said in surprise. “I never heard about that.”_

_“For some reason, it wasn’t sent to any news outlets this time, and so Nakamori-keibu’s keeping it as quiet as possible,” Saguru explained. “Crowds irritate him. More than usual.”_

_“You wouldn’t care to give us a copy of it, would you?” Yuusaku asked, pulling a notebook out of his inner pocket. Saguru wordlessly pulled out a pen and scribbled a precise copy of the riddle, all but the caricature._

Saguru still had the original in front of him. “ _The crystal rainbow of all but blood will fall from the sky and into my hands after the master’s visit and before the shadows begin to creep._ ”

He, Yuusaku and Conan had all quickly agreed that “after the master’s visit” referred to the opening of the inner grounds of the Imperial Palace to the public on January second—in other words, the public’s chance to “visit” the “master”. The riddle had gone out on the evening of the second, so Saguru presumed that the “after” meant the day after, which was the third—today. So the heist was sometime tonight. It was easy to guess that his target had to be among the special display of newly discovered jewels in the Beika Museum, but as there were nearly fifty pieces he was going to have to narrow the field a little. _A jewel that is any colour but red..._

Sapphires. It had to be. Contrary to popular belief, Sapphires could be almost any colour, including clear—they were defined as sapphires by their unique molecular structure. The only exception was red sapphires, which were rubies. If it could be any colour, it was a rainbow—lacking only red, the colour of blood. The target had to be a sapphire. Unfortunately, nine of the jewels present could be classed as sapphires, he noted from the listing that Nakamori-keibu had graciously (by his standards) lent to him.

 _He said rainbow, which means it could well be a sapphire of any colour,_ he thought with a frown. _Think... I need another clue..._

Sky. Why did he specify the sky? Everyone who thought of rainbows immediately visualised them in the sky, though it was possible to create them elsewhere. He wanted them to think of the sky. And the colour most associated with the sky was...

 _Blue,_ Saguru thought. _There are three blue sapphires, we can probably protect them..._ he trailed off with a frown. Something about his conclusion jarred with him. It seemed too straightforward and left too much open. Besides, there was something else about the riddle that bugged him. Not the fact that Kid seemed to be proclaiming that he would summon the jewel, but something in the last part of the riddle. “ _After the master’s visit and before the shadows begin to creep._ ” He presumed that “ _before the shadows begin to creep_ ” meant “before sunrise,” as that was when shadows were given the light they needed to creep into existence, but he had a feeling that there was some other meaning to the line. Something wrong.

_Shadows creeping and hunting the white dove..._

He sighed and flicked a bit of his fringe out of his eyes. He might as well go report his theories to Nakamori-keibu.

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Over in Beika, the Kudo had come to some pretty similar conclusions in regards to the jewel, but had interpreted the final line differently.

“Tonight,” Yuusaku said. “ _Before the shadows begin to creep..._ ”

“It’ll be something They’ll go after too,” Shinichi said. Once again, he was home under the guise of playing at Agasa-hakase’s. To be honest, he was finding it a little difficult to be at the Mori Detective Agency for any length of time—or, more precisely, to be near Ran. It wasn’t just that so much as brushing her hand when reaching for something at the dinner table was enough to send him into a flush, though she was happily oblivious—in fact, that happiness was what was making it so much harder. It wasn’t that it was _bad_ for her to be happy; Kami, no, that was all he really wanted out of life. It was just that she was _so much_ happier than usual that disturbed him. He wondered how lonely and sad she really was, how much of it had been showing for how long now, how much he hadn’t noticed. It hurt him. It didn’t make him feel any more comfortable to feel that he was running away by constantly sneaking out to search for Kuroba, but he could assuage his conscience by reminding himself that he was doing something to find and stop Them; to get his life back and, finally, return to her forever...

“If we’re saying sapphires,” Yuusaku said, poring over a book on gemology and a listing of the jewels on display while Shinichi sat on the desk, reading the riddle and quietly cogitating, “there are nine sapphires, five of which are about the size of a fingernail, which is smaller than he tends to go for. Of the four remaining, one is clear, two are blue and one black. Quite rare.”

“I’d say it’s the black one,” Shinichi said. “Besides the magnetic lure that anything black has to Them, the riddle refers to the sky. Normally, you’d think blue for the sky, but depending on the time of day and weather the sky can be almost any colour. Except for green. I think I’ve seen a sky almost every colour except green.”

“More importantly,” Yuusaku said, closing the book, “The colour of sky most associated with the Kaitou Kid—who operates at night—is black.”

“Exactly,” Shinichi said. “We’d better go to keep an eye out. Besides, I need to talk to Kuroba.”

“I know you do, “Yuusaku said. “That’s why I have an idea.”

“An idea?” Shinichi said, eyebrow raised.

“Look.” Yuusaku opened one of the bottom drawers of the desk, drawing out a map of Beika. “I checked the weather online earlier, and the wind’s coming from the west tonight, which means he’ll have to glide east. That hanglider’s a novel and unique method of escape, but still dependant on air currents, so if you learn to predict them... I used to corner Toichi-kun like this. I didn’t do it in Osaka because I knew he wouldn’t be escaping by hanglider, but as things stand now...”

“I get it,” Shinichi said, angling the edge of the gemology book to create a straight edge with which to predict the Kaitou Kid’s flight path. “Let’s see... we need tall, deserted locales. The most likely is buildings that’ll be closed for Sanga-Nichi, like office buildings, but they’ll be hard to get out of without setting off alarms..."

“What about this?” Yuusaku said, tapping one building that was halfway under the book. “Isn’t that a multistorey car park? Attached to the department store next door, if I remember...”

“Yeah,” Shinichi said slowly. “That’s likely. That place is open-plan, and doesn’t have proper doors, just those ticket barriers, so it’d be no problem for a guy on foot to get out... there’s security cameras, of course, but I can’t exactly see that being a problem for _him_...” then he frowned. “Hold on. I thought the wind was coming from the north-east this evening...”

“Yes, but it’s changing around about midnight,” Yuusaku said, “and I don’t believe he’ll come until after midnight.”

“What? But the _third’s_ the day after...” Shinichi began, but Yuusaku shook his head.

“I don’t believe ‘the master’ refers to the Emperor,” he said quietly. “There’s another meaning to it, for Kuroba Kaito anyway...”

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“Nakamori-san?” Saguru said in surprise. He had been walking to the Nakamori’s apartment when, halfway there, he’d bumped into an equally surprised Aoko clutching a small bouquet of red roses and wearing an oddly formal white dress.

“Hakuba-kun?” she said. “Where are you going?”

“I was going to talk to your father about tonight’s heist,” he replied. “Is he home?”

“No, he went to the museum,” Aoko said, continuing on to wherever she’d been going. “I think Kudo-san called him.”

“Where are you going with the roses, Nakamori-san?” Saguru said as he followed her, content to let Kudo have control of the Kid situation for now as he became curious about where Aoko was so desperate to be. He gestured to the roses. “Is it some sort of anniversary?”

“Well, yes, sort of...” Aoko began, but she was interrupted as a voice called to them.

“Aoko-chan! Hakuba-kun! Fancy meeting you here!”

“Koizumi-san?” Saguru said as the tall girl ran up to them and fell into step with them. She was wearing a purple sleeveless dress with a black suit jacket, mildly less gothic than most of the things she wore out of school. “Where are you going?”

“Say, is it true that Kuroba-kun is back?” Akako asked Aoko, ignoring Saguru.

“It’s likely, though I haven’t seen him yet...” Aoko said.

“Likely? Why...” Saguru trailed off as Aoko turned into the entrance of a cemetery. “Nakamori-san?”

There was something a little odd. The cemetery was almost silent but—there it was, a faint rustling and... cooing?

It wasn’t far into the cemetery when he saw the doves.

Every few seconds, one would appear over the rows of graves, flying between some two points a few rows away. Aoko quickly made her way over, evidently from memory, and Saguru stopped in surprise, Akako almost walking into him.

There were _dozens_ of doves, more than he’d seen even on that day when Kaito had grown exceptionally bored during a math lesson and turned the classroom into a dovecot. Saguru still hadn’t quite figured out how the fool had even gotten doves into the teacher’s desk, or how indeed he had gotten two dozen doves into school unnoticed at all. But here, they were _everywhere_ , fluttering back and forth between the ground, a grave and a tall white figure standing in front of it.

For a moment, Saguru thought that it was Kid, but then he realized that there was no cape, no hat, no monocle, no gloves. It was a little hard to make out through the doves, but he seemed to be wearing a white bow tie instead of a long red tie. It was also Kuroba, and it was the expression on his face that made Saguru stop.

It was harsh, dark, _raw_ , something he’d never seen in the normally idiotic boy before. He was staring down at the grave, unmoved by the fluttering doves, with something like... anger. Sadness. Pain.

 “Kaito!” Aoko cried happily. “I knew you’d be back for Ojisan’s remembrance...”

“ _Ah._ ”

“Aoko?” he said, head snapping up as if out of a daze. Maybe he had been. In a moment, the dark look was gone, his Poker Face slipping into simple, normal grief. “Hey... you came. Huh?” he seemed to have first noticed Saguru and Akako—unusually slow for him. “What are you guys doing here?”

“I ran into them on the way and they followed me,” Aoko said, stepping over to the grave and setting the flowers down next to a bouquet of black roses. “Hey, Otou-san’s been already!”

“Remembrance?” Akako said. “Kuroba-kun... is this the anniversary of your father’s death?”

“Uh... yeah,” Kuroba said, running his good hand through his hair, making the mess marginally messier. Some part of Saguru’s brain wondered how he intended to pull off a heist with one wrist still in a cast. “Ten years.”

Saguru and Akako moved closer to the grave like Aoko. Through the doves, Saguru could make out an inscription: _Kuroba Toichi, the Master of Illusions. Good friend, loving husband, caring father._

Something about the inscription seemed to _click_ with something else in the back of his brain, but he couldn’t figure out what.

“My condolences,” Saguru said instead. “I had no idea.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Kuroba said, a little listlessly.

“Have you been here all day, Kuroba-kun?” Akako said, also reading the inscription.

“Yeah,” Kuroba replied, raising a hand for a couple of doves to settle on. “I got back this morning, overnight train... I pretty much came straight here. I explained why Okaa-san isn’t visiting this year, but I doubt he minds. I’m sure he just wants her to get better.”

“How is she doing, by the way?” Aoko asked. Saguru held out a hand, which one of the doves on the ground pecked at in a friendly way. He noted how Kuroba was talking of his father in the present tense. He wondered whether Kuroba had seen his father’s death. It had been onstage, after all. He wondered what kind of memories the anniversary was dredging up.

“Still stable, still asleep,” Kuroba replied monotonously.

“You’re awfully pale, you know,” commented Aoko. “Have you been eating and sleeping right?”

“I don’t sleep well on trains,” Kaito said with a sigh. “And do you really expect _me_ to cook myself a decent meal?” He grinned, but it was a faint shadow of his normal cheeky grin. If this was him with his Poker Face up, Saguru wasn’t sure he wanted to know how Kuroba was _really_ feeling today.

“Well, maybe we should go back to your place and I’ll do lunch, huh?” Aoko said.

“Um, that’s...” Kuroba said worriedly. Saguru could understand why. If that car was still parked out front of Kuroba’s house... maybe he should suggest a restaurant or something...

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” Akako suddenly interjected. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your house. Besides, I doubt there are shadows gathering there now. They will be preparing to hunt the white dove.”

“Huh?” Aoko said in confusion, glancing at the dozens of birds milling around. Kuroba seemed to calm slightly.

“Well, shall we?” he said. Akako came up with strange things, but she had a tendency to be right. And it _did_ make sense for the Organization to be pulling back if they were preparing to deal with Kuroba at the heist tonight.

“So is it true there’s a Kid heist tonight?” Kuroba was asking as they started walking out of the cemetery. About half of the birds fluttered after him. “They’re not all mine,” he explained. “Some of Otou-san’s old friends, who are still magicians, came by earlier. Their birds hung around. They’ll fly home sooner or later.”

“Oh, I see,” Saguru said. “And Nakamori-keibu was trying to keep it on the quiet, but yes, there _was_ a heist announced and we believe it’s for tonight...”

A couple of hours later, the last of the doves were just fluttering away when a last, solitary visitor quietly approached the grave bearing a bouquet of white roses. He set them down next to the other two, turning them so that the playing card—an ace of spades—that was tied to them was visible.

“He’s a lone wolf like you, Toichi-kun,” the visitor said quietly. “I can only hope that that will change... After all, I promised that I wouldn’t bury him in the cape of Kid, didn’t I? Because they’re both at equal risk now...”

He sat there, squatting on his heels for a long time. Finally he said, “I don’t know if he knows the other half of the Pandora legend, though. I doubt anyone does. It’s only pure luck—and, all right, a testament to your skill—that _you_ overheard it. If it’s true... still, I don’t know which of them it applies to. It could still be either. I almost hope it’s neither... but then, hope’s no good, is it? It’s still trapped in the box. All I can do now is watch over them, like I promised.”

A while later, the visitor was gone. The wind ruffled the flowers and flipped the card over so that the last doves could see the signature on the back.

_!_

But punctuation means nothing to doves.


	34. A Phantom Thief

Probably only Saguru noticed Kaito’s nanosecond of hesitation when they turned onto his street, but at least Akako had once again been on the ball; the car was gone. Kaito relaxed slightly as he led them up to his house, a decent-sized place at the end of the street. As he reached into his pocket for his house keys, Saguru saw a momentary flash of green; some sort of bug sensor, Saguru assumed, as he knew that Kaito would not be so incautious as to let them into his house without checking that doing so wouldn’t make them targets. He _hoped_ so, anyway. The house must have been clean, as he led them in with that faint shadow of his usual grin.

“I’ll try and find the tea stuff,” he said. “Aoko, can you lead ‘em up to the rec room?”

“I’ll be right back down to give you a hand,” she promised as she headed up the stairs. Saguru followed her and Akako with some interest. He’d gotten into Kaito’s house a couple of times under the pretence of borrowing textbooks or homework, but only the ground floor, and he hadn’t gotten to snoop much since either Kaito or his mother seemed to be around all the time.

They passed the door to what was presumably Kaito’s room, hanging slightly ajar. Several doves flew over their heads and into the room as they passed. The room looked normal—bed, computer, bookshelf filled with books on magic and gemology and Arsene Lupin, large dovecot (that looked normal enough to someone who had a hawk perch in his room). Then they turned into the rec room and Saguru stopped in the doorway. Someone was already in there.

After a moment, he realized that it wasn’t a person but a life-size painting depicting a man in a white suit and tie almost identical to the one that Kaito had been wearing. There were a number of doves flying out of the white top hat held upside down in the man’s hands. And his face was...

“Amazing painting, isn’t it?” Aoko said softly. “It’s like Toichi-ojisan’s really here.”

“So this is the great Kuroba Toichi, is it?” Akako said, stepping up to the painting. “Well. Kuroba-kun certainly takes after his father.”

“I’m heading down to help Kaito,” Aoko said. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

Akako settled herself on the sofa sitting in the middle of the room, facing the TV that was sitting between a ceiling-height bookshelf and a similar-sized case full of CDs, DVDs and games—Kaito had a Wii, a PS3 and even a retro N64 hooked up to the TV.

Saguru wandered over to the painting. It certainly was lifelike. The artist had managed to capture something in his piercing blue eyes, identical to Kaito’s, that gave Saguru the impression that Toichi was _watching_ him—not in a predatory way, no, more like the way a passing adult watches children in a playpark; the friendly but slightly condescending way that Kid always watched the police. As Akako had said, it wasn’t difficult to see the resemblance between father and son.

Saguru reached up and touched the edge of the painting. There was an odd feeling of _space_ behind it...

“Yeah, that’s him.”

Saguru stepped back from the painting as Kaito re-entered the room with Aoko, who was carrying a tray with tea and biscuits. Kaito sat on the back of the couch, where Aoko sat down next to Akako and set the tea tray on the coffee table. Saguru took a seat in the comfy chair that was at right angles to the couch.

“Who did the painting?” Akako asked.

“Apparently an artist did it after seeing one of Tou-san’s shows live,” Kaito said. “I don’t know his name, though. I think it was when I was only two or three, anyway. Whoever he was, he was _good_ , huh?”

“It’s certainly very impressive,” Saguru said. “Like it’s alive.”

“Yeah,” Kaito said with a strange smile. “Sometimes it feels like he’s still keeping a lot of secrets...”

“A sneaking phantom, eh?” Akako said, sipping innocuously at her tea.

“You can say that,” Kaito said, as Aoko glanced from one to another in confusion. “In fact, you just did.”

“Anyway, how was your visit to Kyoto?” Aoko said.

“All right,” Kaito said. “Tou-can’s old pal’s going to be travelling and doing some shows, as it happened—he and a few other magicians are doing a menagerie kinda thing. He knew I want to be a professional once I’m out of high school, so he was asking if I wanted to join ‘em for a couple of months.”

“You’re going to travel?” Aoko said in surprise. “Wow! Overseas, or just around Japan?”

“Just Japan,” he said. “And just for a couple of months. I’m planning to be back by exam time.”

 _In other words, he’s about to disappear for a couple of months,_ Saguru thought. Aloud he said, “So when are you leaving?”

“Tonight, actually,” Kaito said. “I was just stopping by for the remembrance and to say bye to you guys and Kaa-san. I’m taking an overnight train to meet them in Osaka.”

“You’re leaving so soon?” Aoko said in dismay. “You won’t even get to see the Kid heist!”

“Yeah, and that sucks too,” Kaito said. “ ‘Cause I bet the one heist I miss is the one where something _really_ special happens...”

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“So we think that’s the target,” Yuusaku said as he and Shinichi walked down the corridor with Nakamori. They’d explained most of their reasoning, but had judiciously left out any deductions pertaining to Kuroba or the Black Organization. “We’ll need to put the most security around the black sapphire.”

“Understood,” Nakamori said. “It’s had a little extra security all day anyway. Apparently some odd people have been hanging around the exhibit.”

“What?” Yuusaku and Shinichi both said sharply. They exchanged a look.

_Black Org? But they don’t normally get noticed..._

They stepped into the exhibition hall.  There were a number of plainclothes officers lurking around, as well as two uniformed officers on each piece, apparently under the explanation that these jewels were _very_ valuable and so needed the tightest security possible. Yuusaku and Shinichi made their way to the black sapphire, Shinichi on edge for any whiff of a Black operative. He calmed right down, however, when he saw the people who were “lurking” around the exhibit.

“ **I wish I could’ve seen the diamond,** ” a dark-haired woman was growling. “ **I kept getting a funny feeling about it, and now I can’t be sure...** ”

“ **It might be back from Britain soon though,** Rose-neechan,” Shinichi said as he sauntered up to the small group of foreigners. Only five of them were crowded around the case with the black sapphire in it.

“You know them?” Yuusaku said in surprise.

“Yeah, we met them on a case a while back,” Shinichi muttered back, “and while I can never say it definitively, I’m 99% sure that none of them are with Them.” Speaking louder, he said, “ **Wow, It’s been a while! Hi everybody!** ”

“ **Hi Dr Nick!** ” Sam said. Angela and Jonathan both giggled. Shinichi and Yuusaku exchanged looks of confusion.

“They’re from Scotland,” Shinichi said by way of explanation.

“ **Fancy running into you again,** Conan-kun,” Angela said. “ **Are you here for the Kid heist?** ”

“ **Yeah—wait, how’d you know about that?** ” Shinichi said in shock.

“ **Oh, please,** ” Rose said. “ **Look how many cops are around, and we heard one of them talking to “** Nakamori-keibu” **on his radio, so we knew he must be around tonight.** ”

“ **We figured he’d hit this place sooner or later anyway,** ” Jonathan said, gesturing at the jewels. “ **Just look at all this _loot_!** ”

“ **What’d we miss?** ” Patrick said, running up, wiping his hands on his handkerchief. He was followed by Kirsteen, who was in a white t-shirt with a black corset on top who reminded Shinichi very vividly of Hakuba’s creepy witch friend, though her short black hair, black trousers and black boots made her looks rather more tomboyish.

“ **Just got here,** ” the girl said. “Hello, Meitantei. Who this guy?”

“ **Good question,** ” Shaun said, glancing at Yuusaku.

“Oh, how rude, we didn’t introduce ourselves,” Rose said in shock. “I’m **Rose** , the girl dressed like a gypsy is **Angel—”** Angela waved, her charm bracelets clinking— **“** the **Jolly Green Giant** there is **Sam—”** Sam tweaked his green jumper and muttered “ **hohoho** ”—“The tall **fairies** are **Jonathan** and **Shaun—”** the couple linked hands and waved in the most stereotypically queer way possible—“Goth girl there is **Kirsteen** —”small bow from goth girl, who had produced a black top hat from somewhere and proceeded to tip it to them—“ **And** the guy who just spent forever in the **loo** is **Angela’s** little brother **Pat.** ” Patrick also waved. He was wearing a greek-collar shirt that made him look even more like his sister. They all seemed a little lightly dressed for winter. There wasn’t a scarf or gloves between them, aside from Kirsteen’s black fingerless gloves, and the only ones wearing a hat was Jonathan, who was wearing a black fedora, and Kirsteen’s top hat. They were all wearing jeans aside from Angela, who was wearing another layered skirt, this time in brown and green. They were mostly wearing hoodies or cardigans except for Jonathan, who had on a black leather jacket which was open to show his t-shirt, which read “ **I ROCK—Guitar Hero said so.** ” “Hajimemashite. You are?”

“Conan’s **Uncle,** ” Yuusaku said, “Kudo Yuusaku. **Nice to meet you. I live in LA most of the time. This is my first time back in Japan for a while.** ”

“Kudo? **Hey, are you related to** Ran-san’s **boyfriend?** ” Jonathan said.

“ **Oh yeah,** ” Angela said thoughtfully. “ **The cute guy she was with at the skating rink...** Kudo Shinichi **?** ”

“ **Shinichi is my son, yes,** ” Yuusaku said as Shinichi flushed involuntarily. “ **However, he’s left already, which was a real wrench for him and** Ran-kun.”

“ **I can imagine,** ” Rose said, watching Shinichi. He shrank behind his father slightly.

“ **So do you know what the target’s going to be?** ” Jonathan said excitedly. “ **We thought it’d be that hugeass diamond, but since it’s not here...** ”

“ **I couldn’t say, I’m sure,** ” Yuusaku said. “ **Kid’s riddles are obscure, but we think it’s one of the sapphires.** ”

“ **Well, let’s go check them out, then!** ” Sam said.

“ **Oh, I hope we get to see** Kid-sama!” Jonathan squealed.

“ **What jewel’s he going to take?** ” Patrick wondered aloud.

“ **They don’t care as long as they get to see Kid,** ” Rose sighed, jerking her thumb at the squealing Angela and Jonathan. “ **Fangirls. That’s the word.** ”

“ **What’s the word?** ” Shaun said, having apparently not been listening.

“ **You mean you haven’t heard the word?** ” Sam said in overdone fake shock.

“ **What’s the word?** ” Angela asked, with the wary air of one who knows they’re setting themselves up.

“ **Word?** ” Patrick asked, glancing at his sister.

“ **Bird!** ” Sam said and launched into a song, although thankfully the Scots had moved out of earshot of Shinichi and Yuusaku by this point.

“Interesting people,” Yuusaku said.

“I wish I didn’t keep running into them,” Shinichi sighed. “Rose-san especially creeps me out like Koizumi-san does...”

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“Ummm... Koizumi-san?”

Akako ignored Hakuba entirely as she caught sight of the _girl_ walking around the museum. The dark-haired woman’s head snapped around, her eyes narrowing on Akako and her mouth curling into an almost feral snarl. The woman’s friend was tugging on her arm and waving her hand between their locked gazes, somehow not burning it in the process, but the woman was ignoring her as Akako was ignoring Hakuba and Aoko.

“Akako-chan?” Aoko said worriedly. Her eyes were a little red. She was worried sick about Kaito, but she’d still come to cheer her father on and probably to vent her frustration on Kid.

“ **Rose?** ” the other girl was calling. “ **Rose, what’s wrong?** ”

“ **Remember how I told you about the difference between witchcraft and Wicca?** ” the dark-haired girl growled. Her friend flipped her long golden-brown ponytail over her shoulder and glanced at Akako.

“ **You’re saying she’s a witch?** ” she said, a little incredulously.

“ **Wiccan** bitch,” Akako growled. “White-magic—”

“Umm, Koizumi-san?” Hakuba was saying nervously. “What’s going on?”

The dark-haired girl and Akako looked away with a snort at the same moment. Akako stalked regally into the museum while the dark-haired girl was towed away by her friend, who was talking in a soothing voice.

 _Damn Wiccan,_ Akako thought. She didn’t actually know much about Wiccans, but the very nature of their magic was so diametrically opposed to hers that the other girl’s mere presence was enough to make her skin crawl. She wondered what a Wiccan was doing in Japan. They didn’t have a lot of power outside of their homeland, generally Europe, because holy magic was drawn from nature. Dark magic was drawn from people, and Kami knew they were the same anywhere. She prayed that the girl was just on holiday.

The place was crawling with cops, both plainclothes and normal. There weren’t a lot of tourists or visitors, aside from a few foreigners, because it was getting late and it wasn’t common knowledge that there was a Kid heist tonight. Still, something in the air was making her spine tingle, and it didn’t feel like white magic. It wasn’t magic at all, just normal, human evil and—something else, something not quite human, something _wrong_. Akako glanced around wildly, ignoring the confused looks and questions from Aoko and Hakuba, but she didn’t see anybody but foreigners and police. Officers were hurrying in and out of the museum, and somehow the inhuman presence vanished.

But there was also...

“Akako-neechan? Aoko-neechan? Saguru-niichan? I didn’t know you were coming!”

She glanced down. A child had appeared behind them, a child with glasses and strangely adult blue eyes and that disturbingly powerful aura.... A child that wasn’t...

“Well, well, Conan-kun,” Hakuba said. “You’re here for the heist? Is Kudo-sensei here?”

“Yeah, he’s talking to Nakamori-keibu,” the boy said, crossing his arms behind his head. “They’re discussing catching Kid by predicting where he’s going to fly. If you know the wind direction, it’s easy!”

“That makes sense,” Hakuba said, “After all, if he uses the hanglider he’s at the mercy of the wind currents...” They descended into a long, technical discussion about thieving and meteorology.

“I’ve lost track of what they’re talking about,” Aoko whispered to Akako, “but as long as it involves catching Kid, I don’t really care.”

Akako nodded, not really listening, watching the child closely, listening him trot out complex terms that no child should know...

“ **Hey, I’m about to head back,** ” a tall foreigner in a green sweatshirt was calling to his friends. “ **It’s tomorrow already...** ”

Then all the lights went out.


	35. In The Shadows

It was only for a moment, and then the lights came back on. But in that moment, the black sapphire vanished.

“What the—?!” Saguru gasped as he beheld the empty case. Where the black sapphire had sat, there was only a cushion, with a slight dimple in it to mark where the jewel had been. Mocking laughter rang out throughout the display room.

“I told you I would summon it to my hand, did I not?” Kid’s voice called from the gallery above. Everyone looked up in shock at the white figure sitting casually on the railing. He lazily tossed the black sapphire in the air a couple of times.

“What? That can’t be!” Aoko gasped, glancing from Kid to the case. “How did he—?!”

“Now, if you will excuse me...” Kid said, stepping off of the railing and onto the gallery as cops ran for the stairs. He held up a hand with the switch for his hanglider. Saguru dove for the stairs.

_Bang_

Saguru nearly gave himself whiplash as he sourced the gunshot to the opposite gallery. Kid jerked backwards as the bullet tore past his right arm in a fine spray of red. Three more shots rang out, hitting Kid in the chest with a surprisingly solid _thump_. _He’s wearing a bullet-proof vest,_ Saguru realized as he tore past the confused and yelling cops and headed for the opposite stairs. As he reached the gallery, he saw the man in black raising the gun, but Kid had seen him too. A card shot past Saguru’s head, knocking the gun out of the man’s hand and sending the fifth shot wildly off course, smashing into the chandelier. Foreigners and cops scattered screaming as the chandelier collapsed, spraying smashed crystal and glass everywhere and dropping the room back into darkness. Saguru lost sight of the man in black but heard a door _slam_ at the other end of the corridor. At the same time, a window _smash_ ed across the room. Saguru whirled around again, but everything was dark. The only light Kid had restored was the chandelier. Nakamori-keibu was yelling alternatively at the power room and the police officers stationed outside in his radio.

“Nakamori-san! Koizumi-san!” Saguru called into the darkness as he ran down the stairs. “Are you two all right?”

“We’re fine,” Akako called from the doorway. The rest of the lights flickered on.

“Hey, where’s Conan-kun?” Aoko said, glancing around. Saguru’s heart missed a beat as he ran for the smashed chandelier, but it wasn’t large and it was quickly evident that there was no-one under it—there’d be blood if there was, but there were only fragments of crystal. Several cops and one of the foreigners were clutching large cuts from flying crystal, but it was quickly evident that there were no fatalities.

“Kudo-sensei?” he called, picking his way over to the novelist who was staring out of the window. “Are you all right? Where’s Conan-kun?”

“I’m fine,” Yuusaku replied, “and he’s most likely already chasing _him_.” He pointed out the window, where Saguru quickly spotted the white triangle soaring away. Nakamori-keibu had already noticed it, if the way he was yelling at the cops to get a move on was any indication. “I don’t think I’ll join the chase, however. I’m not much of a runner.” Saguru glanced back at the chandelier and saw something black flash as the foreigners pulled their injured friend away.

“No,” he said, “me neither.”

“ **Shit, are you all right?** ” Angela gasped. She was clutching Patrick’s right arm, pushing up his sleeve to examine a wound.

“ **What the _hell_ just happened?** ” Sam demanded.

“ **What do you think?** ” Rose said, a little testily. “ **Someone just _shot_ at Kid.** ”

“ **What stupid fucker would want to do _that_?” ** Jonathan gasped.

“ **Excuse me a moment,”** Yuusaku said, striding over to them. Saguru glanced around. Aoko seemed to have run off after her father, and there were only a couple of cops cleaning up the crystal, himself, Kudo Yuusaku, the seven foreigners and Akako, who was glaring at Rose again.

“ **Something wrong?** ” Shaun asked.

“ **Well, there’s just one problem,** ” Yuusaku pointed out. “ **I don’t know if you noticed, but making a jewel disappear and reappear twenty meters away less than a second later is impossible.** ”

“These are mirror fragments,” Saguru noted, sifting through the shattered pieces on the floor. Some of the glass, indeed, was more solidly reflective than it ought to be.

“ **Mirrors?** ” Rose said in confusion, her voice just a trace acidic as she glared at Akako.

“ **Oh, wait!** ” Sam said suddenly, snapping his fingers. “ **It’s like the disappearing elephant trick!** ”

“ **What are you on about?** ” Patrick said, glancing at his friend with eyebrows raised.

“ **Oh,** **I’ve seen that one on TV!** ” Kirsteen explained. “ **A magician led an elephant into a cage, there was a puff of smoke and it vanished... only it didn’t. There were mirrors hidden in the bars. He turned them when the smoke was hiding the cage so they hid the elephant and reflected the audience, making it look like the elephant had vanished.** ”

“ **Precisely,** ” Yuusaku said. “ **Kid set up the mirrors before. During the blackout, he dropped them around the case as he ran upstairs. The jewel that he was showing off upstairs was a fake to make us _think_ he’d taken it.** ”

“ **So why’d Kid leave without the real jewel?** ” Shaun asked.

“ **Because he was being _shot_ at, duh,** ” Rose snorted.

“ **Actually, he hasn’t left,** ” Saguru said. “ **The fragments of the case are still here, but the jewel isn’t. So Kid’s taken the jewel, and he’s waiting for his chance to escape in disguise.** ”

“ **You mean...** ” Jonathan glanced around himself excitedly. “ **One of _us_** **could be Kid?!** ”

“ **One of us _is_ ,**” Angela snorted. “Right?” She tightened her grip on her “brother’s” arm.

“ **What—?!** ” he said. “ **Umm, Angie, no matter how much I _wish_ I was the Kid...** ”

“ **What makes you think _Pat_** **is the Kaitou Kid?** ” Kirsteen said in confusion.

“ **He didn’t know The Word,** ” Angela said. “ **Normally, “Haven’t you heard the word?” sets him off into a song he got from Family Guy. Bird’s the word. There’s no way to stop him, I’ve tried. Anyway, I guess vague injokes and obscure American cartoon references are a bit much even for Kid’s acting skills. So I’ve been a little suspicious since you guys got back from the bathroom. Besides, his ‘glass cut’ is burned on the edges.** ”

“ **Have you ever considered detective work,** Angela-san?” Yuusaku said, amused.

“ **Don’t let him go,** ” Saguru commanded, pulling handcuffs out of his pocket and diving for the thief before he bolted.

“ **Oh, don’t worry about _that_!** ” Angela squealed, hugging Kid around the neck. He shrugged and pulled his mask off, donning his hat and monocle one-handed—and a slightly awkward hand at that, Saguru noticed.

“Apologies, Ojousama, but I must leave you now,” he said, leaning up and kissing Angela’s cheek. She squeaked, turned bright red and promptly melted. A second later, Kid slipped past Saguru and the other foreigners who had dived for him and made for the stairs, shedding the foreign clothes and returning to his white suit as he did so. Saguru was slowed when Jonathan’s rugby tackle, aimed at Kid, hit him squarely and more uncomfortably than it should be in the chest, but Yuusaku shot past and chased Kid. Saguru swore under his breath. The chase was going up, which meant he’d make it to the roof...

As it happened, Kid shot out a twelfth-floor window and dived out of that, deploying his hanglider before he was even fully out. Saguru groaned as he watched him fly away, realizing that the wind direction must have changed as Kid was going in a different direction to what must have been a dummy deployed earlier.

“That was close,” Yuusaku sighed. “I’ll call Conan-kun and tell him about the change of direction...”

“ **You mean I MISSED** **it?!** ”

Back down in the hall, a few officers had returned and were questioning the foreigners. Angela was still grinning dazedly, she and Jonathan squealing happily. The real Patrick had arrived, pulling his shirt on, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and not looking too happy to have missed a genuine Kid heist.

“Well, he’s away,” Yuusaku said to one of the cops. “You’d better let Nakamori-keibu know. Good luck with that, by the way.” The cop gulped and paled but nodded.

“Oi... Kudo-sensei?”

It was Angela, who was still a little red but now looking thoughtful. “Yes? Don’t worry about Kid, you’re not the first one he got past that way...”

“Oh, it’s not that...” she muttered, going even redder. “I just remembered... I was trying to think of where I’d heard your name before. Are you the creator of the Night Baron?”

“As it happens, yes,” Yuusaku asked. “You’ve read my books?”

“Only the first couple,” she said. “They’ve not all been translated into English yet. I was just wondering, that’s all. They’re really, really good. Anyway...” she turned back to the officer that was trying to question her.

“What I’m really worried about is the guy in black who was on the balcony,” Saguru said.

“Hmm?” Yuusaku said. “My apologies. What was that?”

“The shooter,” Saguru muttered sharply. “He got away.”

“Yes, but I doubt he’ll find Kid again tonight,” Yuusaku said, glancing out at the window.

“I’m going out to meet Nakamori-keibu,” Saguru said. “What are you doing?”

“Hmm? Oh,” he said, “Finding Conan-kun and taking him home, I suppose.”

“Really?” Saguru asked suspiciously. “You seem distracted.”

“I am, a little,” Yuusaku replied. “I’m just thinking about the Night Baron...”

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Shinichi derived a small bit of pleasure from the fact that he actually had to duck a little to get under the barrier. Running quietly, lightly, he slipped through the shadows of the multistorey car park. Everything was quiet. He couldn’t hear the sirens going off at the museum any more. His father must have successfully misdirected the police.

 _Good,_ he thought. _I should have time to talk to Kuroba, if he’s going to listen..._ Shinichi wasn’t certain how to make Kuroba listen when he was probably more paranoid than Haibara at the moment, but he figured he could wing it safely enough as long as Kid didn’t.

He paused as one of the shadows moved, raising his watch. He lowered it as his father stepped into a patch of moonlight.

“The police headed towards Toto Tower,” he explained. “Hasn’t Kaito-kun gotten here yet?”

“No,” Shinichi said. “I was about to head up to the roof to keep an eye out in case he flew straight over here...” he turned to run up the ramp to the next level and paused. The security camera by the ramp wasn’t on. The screen was cracked, cracks radiating from a jagged hole in the glass.

_A bullet hole._

“Hey,” he said. “I left the second the lights came back on so that I got here first. I thought you were going to stay there until he left for real.” He popped a football out of his belt. “How _did_ you get here so fast?”

He turned back, foot raised to kick the football, but she’d _moved_ , crossing the ten meters that had been between them quickly and silently, and she forced some funny-smelling cloth over his mouth...

The football deflated to the ground, unkicked...

It was getting darker...

The last thing he heard was, in her real voice, “Sorry, **Cool Guy** , but I think I made a mistake. And it’s not fair to have two.”

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Kaito landed softly on the roof of the multistorey car park. He ducked into the deserted top level and changed from his white suit to his dark grey jumper and jeans, his night-camo wear; he didn’t like wearing black and at any rate dark grey actually blended with the shadows a little better. The process was a little slower than usual due to his still-damaged right wrist and the bullet wound in his upper right arm. He left the bulletproof vest on. He didn’t want to tempt fate, since Snake had almost certainly escaped the museum.

He quickly ran down the ramps to the bottom level. Before he ran down the last ramp, however, he paused. He stepped behind a support pillar and carefully glanced around it. As he’d thought, there was a motorcycle parked on just the other side of the barrier. There was someone next to it, bent over a large sports bag. It looked like a woman. Kaito slipped his card gun out of his left sleeve, then jumped over the edge of the ramp and landed in the shadows beneath. The movement was fast and silent, he’d been sure, but the woman straightened up and turned to face him. He froze in shock.

“What are you doing, Kaito?” she said. “Sneaking around in the shadows?”

Kaito growled at the sound of the voice, raising his card gun, but he’d hesitated and that was all the woman had needed to draw a gun—a _real_ gun—and shoot his out of his hand.

“Be a good boy, now,” Kuroba Chikage’s face said.

“My mother is in a _coma_ ,” Kaito snarled. “So at the risk of sounding impolite, who the fuck are you, lady?” His normal politeness and composure were significantly shaken. _Who the hell_ is _this?!_

“Caught me out,” she said in a voice that was smooth and cold, sounding completely unnatural coming out of his mother’s mouth. It was matched by a similarly incongruous cold smile.

“Why not take the mask off?” he said, trying not to plead. “Fair’s fair, you’ve caught _me_ in my real face.”

“I’m not known for playing fair,” she said, sounding amused, “but for you, I’ll make an exception. After all, I came to apologize.”

“Apologize?” Kaito said, arching an eyebrow when she reached up one hand to remove her mask, the other keeping the gun trained on him. She pulled his mother’s face away with a flourish, shaking out long waves of platinum-blonde hair from under the black wig. Her eyes were a pale, icy blue, and her cold smile reappeared as she focused once more on him.

“Now who are you,” Kaito demanded, “and how come you’re so good at changing your face and voice?”

“As good as you, I should think,” the woman said sweetly. “After all, we had the same sensei...

 _The same sensei...?_ Kaito thought. His mind was a whirl of confusion. _She knew Tou-san? Is she one of_ Them? _She knows who I am! Crap, that gun’s_ real...

Her smile was reaching the temperature of liquid nitrogen. “Call me Vermouth.”


	36. Kidnapped

“Vermouth?” Kaito said quietly. “Wait... you’re one of _Them_. The Shadow Syndicate.”

“Oh, yes,” Vermouth said softly. “I’ve been a Raven since before you were born.”

“But if you were with Them,” Kaito said, confused, “and you knew Tou-san... knew who he was...”

“We met only once, when you were very small,” she said. “I doubt you remember me. I was calling myself Sharon Vineyard back then, and I was a good friend of Toichi-sensei’s... though I’m sure that’s no longer true. I do feel genuinely sorry for my inadvertent part in his death, however.”

“So it was _you_ ,” Kaito stated quietly. It wasn’t a question. “ _You_ sold him out.” Rage ignited behind his Poker Face.

Vermouth fired, hitting the ground barely an inch in front of Kaito’s foot as he lunged forwards. Not a muscle on Kaito’s face twitched as he stilled, though he was sure his Poker Face would soon melt under the rage burning behind it. _It’s all her fault._

“I said _inadvertent,_ ” she said, re-aiming the gun at his head, “And I do regret it, believe me, although I doubt you will. If it’s any consolation, I’m the one who made them believe that it was Toichi-sensei they were looking for, and not you.”

“Save your breath,” Kaito spat bitterly. “You’re all murderers. I won’t forgive you for what you’ve done, so don’t even try. I _will_ destroy the Pandora.”

She tipped her head to the side, her lips curving into an unnerving smile. “Yes, you will, won’t you?” she mused, almost patronisingly. “I guess I did make a mistake.”

“What are you on about?” Kaito demanded, slightly flexing his right elbow and feeling something heavy drop into his hand, hiding the wince of pain at the jolting movement. _In the moment she’s distracted..._

“Yes, it wouldn’t be fair,” she decided aloud, apparently finishing some conversation in her head. She walked back to her motorcycle, gun still trained on Kaito to stop him moving. “Well, it seems you won’t accept my apology for my part in Toichi-sensei’s death, so I doubt that you’ll accept my _other_ apology.”

“ _Other_ apology?” Kaito said. “What, were you the one that ran over Kaa-san as well?”

“Oh, no, that’s Snakebite and Gin you want there,” she said, gun still raised as she reached down to the sports bag, half-hidden by the motorbike. “No, I’m afraid I must apologize for using you as bait for my true target.”

“Your true target?” Kaito said, cold fear suddenly gripping his heart. It only squeezed harder when she raised the half-closed bag, showing the sleeping—or dead, he couldn’t tell—face inside. A familiar face. A child’s face.

Tantei-kun.

“He was waiting here for you for the _longest_ time,” she said sweetly.

“You—!” Kaito roared, lunging forward, forgetting about the gun as he flung his flash grenade at her while pulling on his sunglasses. She’d hidden the gun already, though, zipping the bag completely closed and pulling on a motorcycle helmet with a darkened visor as the flash went off. As the flash illuminated every corner of the parking lot, the shot-out cameras, the fragments of his gun, the limp white shape of a deflated football, she swung the bag over her shoulder as she leapt onto her bike. Kaito ran for her, but it was too late; she gunned the engine, speeding out into the road and roaring into the night. Kaito vaulted the barrier, but her headlights were already vanishing around a distant corner.

 _That bitch... she used this heist to... damn it!_ sirens were drawing nearer, and people were leaning out of nearby apartments and bars, staring at the parking lot that had been lit up a moment ago. Kaito dove down a side alley, running until he was long out of sight, taking a winding route to the Blue Parrot. _Damn her..._

Then he skidded to a halt, swearing profusely. The fragments of his card gun were still at the lot, he realized, and that deflated football. The police would know that he had been there—that Kid had, anyway. They’d know that Edogawa Conan had been there too. There was evidence of a fight. And before long, it would transpire that Edogawa Conan was missing—vanished when chasing the Kaitou Kid. He was willing to bet that that _bitch_ had shot out the cameras in disguise, so they’d probably assume it was _him_ in disguise. Before long, the Kaitou Kid, renowned for never raising his hand to those who chased him, would be nothing but a child kidnapper. And there was no way for Kaito to give his testimony to the contrary. He just had to pray that people would ask questions about the mystery shooter at the museum. Maybe Kudo Yuusaku would link it to when he saw Snake in Osaka. He had to hope.

And he had to find Tantei-kun. He was now _certain_ that the kid was involved with the Shadow Syndicate, possibly even deeper than Kaito was. Even if he wasn’t, Kaito couldn’t let a kid get killed because of him. _But how do I find him?_

He paused, and then changed his course, heading to Beika. _Hold on a moment... I’ve seen him use those glasses as a tracker. Maybe they release a signal too, or something else he has on him. He was still wearing his glasses when she escaped, although it’s probably too much to hope that she won’t dispose of anything with a tracker in it at some point... still, I bet that old scientist that he hangs around with... Agasa-Hakase... he made that stuff, didn’t he? So maybe he’ll have backups..._

Kaito slipped through the shadows, making for 2-22 Beika.

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Yuusaku paused as he neared the parking lot. Something was wrong. He could hear police sirens. The police shouldn’t be looking for Kid around here. Had something else happened...?

He froze in surprise when he reached the entrance to the lot. It was blocked off by police cars and yellow tape. Even more surprising, Nakamori was there, yelling at the cops as usual but looking unusually grim.

“Nakamori-kun?” he asked, slipping under the tape. “What happened?”

“Kudo-kun...” Nakamori said, running a hand through his already unruly hair. “It’s unprecedented. But then, everything about this heist has been odd...”

“Nakamori-kun?” Yuusaku asked, growing increasingly worried.

“We got called out here about half an hour ago,” Nakamori explained. “The security guy watching the cameras reported that all of the ground-floor cameras were shot out by... well, from what he could see before the cameras were shot, they were shot out by _you_.”

“That’s impossible,” Yuusaku said immediately. “Half an hour ago, I was chasing Kid through the museum with Hakuba-kun.”

“Yes, I don’t doubt that,” Nakamori said with a nod, “which suggests that it was someone good at disguise—like Kid. The problem is, he was using a real gun.”

“Kid doesn’t use real guns,” Yuusaku said slowly. “That card gun’s a toy, technically speaking.”

“I know,” Nakamori said, running a hand through his hair again, “but we found his gun here in the lot, broken into pieces... and with a bullet in it. We haven’t determined yet if the bullet was actually _in_ the gun and something else broke it, or if someone shot his gun out of his hand... given that guy at the museum, it _could_ be the latter, like Nightmare all over again, but that doesn’t explain why Kid shot out the cameras with a real gun and it doesn’t explain the other thing we found like the first theory does...”

“What else did you find?” Yuusaku asked, trying to keep his voice calm. Kami, they hadn’t expected the Syndicate to be out _here_ , and if Shinichi got here before Kid did, if he was here alone and the Syndicate had tracked Kid the same way they had...

“A deflated football,” Nakamori said quietly. “The patterns mark it as a child’s ball. Conan-kun must have followed when Kid left for real. In any case, several people saw a huge flash and heard a bang on the ground floor here about fifteen minutes ago. A few people peeked out of the bar across the street and reported seeing a figure in dark clothes fleeing the scene before the police approached, with a large sports bag on his back. I’m sorry, but all the markers so far mean that either Kid and some partner of his hand a falling out and your nephew got caught in the crossfire... or Kid’s decided to drop his ‘nobody gets hurt’ policy.”

“Dammit,” Yuusaku muttered, speed-dialling “Conan’s” cell phone. It was turned off, which wasn’t too unusual if he was chasing Kid and didn’t want to be disturbed, but when he dialled Shinichi’s mobile that was turned off too. That was wrong. Shinichi _always_ had that mobile on, _especially_ if he was chasing Kid or similar, because he knew someone would only call that mobile if it was _really_ important. He tried dialling the earring mobile as a last resort, knowing that it _couldn’t_ be switched off. It rang for a couple of minutes... then there was a _crunch_ and a dial tone. Yuusaku frantically tried to redial, but all he got was a recorded announcement telling him that the number he had dialled did not exist or was no longer in service. Someone had heard the phone ringing... and destroyed it.

“Damn it!” Yuusaku tried to compose himself as he hurried over to the marked fragments of gun and football, still left lying in the parking lot as officers photographed the crime scene. It was hard. He’d already nearly lost his son once, and now someone had him... if it was really Kid that had taken him, he could relax, because he felt that Kaito wouldn’t have kidnapped Shinichi unless it was to protect him... like if Shinichi _had_ been caught in some crossfire between Kaito and the Syndicate. But he knew that it wasn’t Kaito, because he wouldn’t have destroyed Shinichi’s phone as if hiding him; besides, Kaito hadn’t been the one who shot out the cameras, because, as Yuusaku d told Nakamori, at the time that the cameras had been shot out he and Hakuba had been chasing the real Kid through the museum. Someone else had disguised as him, shot out the cameras and waited here.

Yuusaku knelt down to examine the football. It was one of the temporary inflatable ones that Agasa-Hakase had made, but it wasn’t dented like it would have been if Shinichi had kicked it. He had popped out the football, but someone had gotten him before he could kick it. It was probably the same person who had shot out the cameras and shot the gun out of Kaito’s hand.

 _I didn’t think the Syndicate would turn up here..._ he thought. _I shouldn’t have let him go out alone, damn it... he makes it so easy to forget that he’s not an adult anymore..._

“I’m going to go check at Kogoro-kun’s place, in case he went home already,” Yuusaku said as he left. He didn’t go to the Mori’s place yet, though; he knew Shinichi wouldn’t be there. Instead, he ran for the car, still parked near the museum, and drove back to Agasa-Hakase’s.

 _There’s no doubt that the one who shot out the cameras is with the Syndicate,_ he thought, _and if they’re that good at disguises, it can only be ... Sharon._

He floored it.

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Ai was just leaving the bathroom and heading for bed when the front door burst open. Her first reflex was _hide_ , but she calmed herself when she saw it was Kudo’s father in the door. Something was wrong, though. He looked very pale and stern, and Kudo wasn’t with him. She’d have thought that he must have gone back to the Mori’s already if Yuusaku didn’t look so frightened.

“Yuusaku-kun?” Agasa said, coming through from his lab. “What on earth happened?”

“Hakase,” Yuusaku demanded, “do you have spare tracker glasses?”

“Has something happened to Kudo-kun?” Ai asked. “Where is he, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Yuusaku said, looking around frantically, “that’s why I need the glasses.”

“We have a spare pair here somewhere...” Agasa said, retreating into the lab. A moment later, he reappeared, as white-faced as Yuusaku.

“They’re gone,” he said faintly, “and _this_ was left behind.” He held out a small piece of paper. Yuusaku took it, sitting down on the couch to read it. Ai stood on the cushions next to him, leaning over to see it.

_I’m afraid I have to borrow these. I will not tolerate the theft of life in my name. They will be returned when he is._

_Kid_

Beneath it was a familiar doodle, wearing glasses instead of a monocle, one lens showing a radar grid.

“Ah,” Yuusaku said, taking a deep breath. “Disturbingly, that’s actually reassuring.”

“What’s going on?” Ai demanded. “Has _Kid_ kidnapped Kudo-kun or something?”

“No, but the person who did has framed him for it,” Yuusaku said grimly. “They shot out the security cameras at the parking lot where they got him disguised as me, so that they’d suspect someone good at disguise—specifically, Kid. But Snakebite turned up at the museum... and as I recall, one of his associates is as good at disguise as Kid, isn’t she?”

Ai felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. She leaned back from the note, sinking to her knees shakily. “Vermouth,” she croaked. “Oh, Kami, no...”

“Wait—Vermouth’s kidnapped him _again_?” Agasa said in shock. Yuusaku looked at him in surprise. “You remember, when Yukiko-kun and Hattori-kun went to the monster party in his place... Vermouth tranquilized Shinichi with his own watch and escaped with him. But she didn’t kill him—she just left him knocked out and ran.”

“What’s she up to?” Ai said, half-listening, lost in her own fear. “She didn’t kill him then, and now she’s kidnapped him again—by the way, kidnapping is not Organization policy. You kill targets and either make it look like an accident or a suicide, or make sure the body won’t ever be found. They’ve got _furnaces_ for that at several Organization compounds. So what’s she doing?”

“What _has_ she been doing?” Yuusaku said quietly. He seemed to be thinking about something. Then he sighed and got up again. “Well, Kid’s on his trail for now and I guess he’s got a better chance of tracking him than we do. I’m going to inform Yukiko and Ran-kun that he’s missing, and then I think I’ll call James-kun. I haven’t heard from him in _years_.”

Ai sat trembling on the couch as he left, Agasa returning to the lab with the intent of building another pair of tracking glasses. She curled up, trembling like she was freezing, even though it was warm enough in the lab.

 _Oh, Kami,_ she prayed, pressing her head into her knees, fighting to control the shaking. _Please... please let him be all right... please don’t let her kill him..._ please...

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“What the hell’s going on?”

Ginzo slammed his fists into the desk in frustration. The whole thing was _wrong_ , dammit. All of the evidence was pointing to Kid as the kidnapper, but Kid had no reason to do that; as far as Ginzo had seen, he treated the boy more like an annoying kid brother or friendly rival that anything else. The two of them weren’t in any sort of life-or-death struggle. So why would he kidnap the boy?

And when did he start using a _real_ gun, anyway? Kid _never_ used real bullets, and he never hurt anybody; in fact, the twice that someone had been killed and Kid had been framed for it, he’d been pretty quick to turn up and out the true criminal. That thought gave Ginzo some comfort—if someone else had taken Conan, they’d have Kid on their ass as well as the police, and though he hated to admit it Kid had a better track record of cornering these guys than they did.

That was the other thing—the shooter at the museum. Was _he_ connected to this? Was it connected to the shadowy figures that had tried to kill Kid? Had the child discovered something about them and...

“Nakamori-keibu?”

“What?” he growled. The nervous-looking (and rightly so, Ginzo was in a mood that was bad even by _his_ standards tonight) young man cleared his throat.

“Umm, it’s not technically our department, but we thought you should be informed,” he said. “Kuroba-kun’s house burned down.”

“ _What_?!” Ginzo yelled, jumping to his feet.

The officer waved his hands nervously. “No fatalities!” he said quickly. “Aoko-san told us that Kuroba-kun got on a train to Osaka earlier this evening, so he wasn’t there... The fire department got there fast enough, but they didn’t manage to save much. The core seems to have been the kitchen, so they think maybe there was a gas leak or something left on... The house has collapsed but they’re digging things out right now. Anything that’s survived, a few photo albums, things like that. We just thought you ought to know, since it’s a little odd, so soon after their accident and everything...”

“Stop babbling and go,” Ginzo said. The man fled. Ginzo sat down again, staring at the paperwork without seeing a word.

 _Gas leak my ass,_ he thought. _If that car accident wasn’t an accident, then I doubt this was an accident either... the same night as that failed shooting... like someone trying to finish the job..._

He shook himself as the strange old accusations re-entered his head. _Stop it,_ he thought. _Toichi-kun’s dead, and Kaito... no, I’ve seen Kaito and Kid at the same time, and anyway, Kaito’s been on a train to Osaka since a couple of hours before the heist. Forget about it..._

Still, the odd, nagging suspicions wouldn’t go; there were too many coincidences, and while they were explainable, as a police officer Ginzo had no time for coincidences. And he couldn’t help wondering if he was just _telling_ himself it was impossible, like he didn’t want to know—not just because it meant that his best friend had lied to him, but because it would mean for certain that his friend had been murdered, and Ginzo hadn’t been able to stop or solve it. _Damn it, Toichi-kun... if you were in danger... couldn’t you have told me? Did you really think I’d just throw you in a cell if your life was at stake? Or was it better to pass the danger on to your_ son _?_

He sighed, standing up again and reaching for his coat. What good were questions to the silence of Toichi’s tomb? Maybe he should head down to the Kuroba’s... what was left of it anyway. Aoko would probably be there. Then he’d have to contact Yuusaku and find out if there were any leads on Conan.

Still, one mystery remained. Someone brilliant with disguise had shot out those cameras, and that meant that either his theory about the involvement of the shadowy snipers really _was_ wrong, and Kid had taken Conan... or Kid’s enemies had someone who was just as good at disguise as Kid. Neither thought was comforting, and either way, this heist was the beginning of a whole new game—and the stakes were starting high.


	37. Ashes To Ashes

“Yuusaku-kun,” James said, greeting his old friend with a handshake. “It’s been a long time.”

“It has,” Yuusaku said, smiling slightly though he looked a little drawn. “I hear you’re an officer these days.”

“Indeed. So what are you doing here?” James asked, looking over the heap of ashes and blackened debris that several firemen were sifting through. It was a tragic and highly suspicious mess.

“I was about to ask you that,” the novelist said quietly. “Or do you find it as suspicious as I do that the Kuroba’s house burns down not even two weeks after the Syndicate attempts to kill them and make it look like an accident?”

“You know about that?” James said sharply, gesturing to Yuusaku to step away from the firefighters before they started talking about the Syndicate and lowering his voice. “More to the point—do you mean the _Black Organization_?”

“The FBI’s not the only ones to have noticed the existence of the Shadow Syndicate,” Yuusaku said quietly. “Why, even particularly bright _children_ are catching on to them—you know?”

“You mean Conan-kun?” James said. “We’re worried about him. We heard that he was kidnapped by, well... Kid.”

“Not quite,” Yuusaku said. “You haven’t happened to notice any correlation between odd incidents on Kid heists and Syndicate activity, have you?”

“Jodie suggested something to that effect,” James said sternly, narrowing his eyes on his old friend. “And I’m starting to think that our information isn’t as confidential as we thought.”

“Like I said, the FBI are not the only ones involved,” Yuusaku said, chuckling softly, waving off his suspicions, “and as far as I hear, you and the CIA have only been getting in each other’s way. But I could use help from either or indeed both of you. Conan was indeed kidnapped—but we suspect that it was _Vermouth_ , not Kid.”

James swore. _Vermouth_. He didn’t like the idea of telling _that_ to Jodie. She was worried enough about the boy without learning that he was in _her_ hands. “How do you know?”

“Apparently it was _me_ who shot out the cameras,” Yuusaku said, “which suggests someone brilliant at disguise, since I have a number of witnesses to attest that at the same moment, Hakuba-kun and I were chasing down Kid. And since Kid doesn’t use _real_ bullets, like the ones that shot out the camera, it means it was someone who’s just as good at disguise as Kid. The only person I know like that is Sharon Vineyard, as I understand it also known as Chris Vineyard or Vermouth. I got all of this from my nephew and son, by the way, so you don’t need to be worried about your security being compromised.”

“Nephew and...? Conan-kun’s your nephew?”

“Son of a distant cousin. We just say nephew for convenience’s sake.”

“And your son... isn’t he Kudo Shinichi?” James asked thoughtfully. “The young detective who vanished a couple of years ago?”

“He vanished because he saw something he shouldn’t have,” Yuusaku said quietly, “and was very nearly silenced for it. They think he’s dead and they’re not getting any reason to believe otherwise. He’s been investigating under an... alias ever since.” There was something odd about how Yuusaku said “alias” that made James suspect that he wasn’t telling the whole story. Still, if the kid had managed to hide himself for two years, he was probably doing all right without FBI intervention. But if he had information, the FBI needed it.

“So how is Conan-kun involved?” James asked.

“He... saw it too,” Yuusaku hedge. “But They don’t know he did. He’s a sharp and stubborn kid, in case you hadn’t noticed. He’s been passing information back and forth, and getting into rather more trouble than he should in the process.”

“So Conan-kun’s mystery source is Kudo Shinichi?” James pressed. “We were worried about how a little kid was getting so much information.”

“Listen,” Yuusaku said urgently. “Very few people know for certain that Shinichi’s alive and it’s going to stay that way. For now, we have to find Conan.”

“Of course,” James agreed. “I’ll contact Jodie. Our contact is going to call her soon. She might know what Vermouth’s done with the boy. I’ll keep our operatives across Japan on red alert as well.”

“One other thing,” Yuusaku said. “Kid’s tracking him already. If you’re on the right track, I’m sure you’ll come across him.”

“Any more information that you’re willing to share, or are you going to be as reticent as Conan-kun?” James asked ruefully.

“Reticence, I’m afraid,” Yuusaku said with a small smile. “Must be in the blood. But I hope we can help each other. Oh, and one last thing... The one investigating the Syndicate in Osaka is the chief’s son, Hattori Heiji. He’s escaped detection so far just fine, but Conan mentioned that you were curious so I thought I’d better tell you before you inadvertently exposed him.”

“More and more these days, I get the feeling that the FBI’s abilities are not widely regarded,” James grumbled.

Yuusaku patted him on the back reassuringly. “Your legal muscle is respected, if nothing else,” he said reassuringly. “Now... I have a few other people to talk to. If you’ll excuse me...”

“We should meet up again,” James said. “You know, old friends getting together...”

“Good idea,” Yuusaku said. He waved as he strode away, skirting the edge of the devastation to where a blond boy with Asian features was talking to one of the firemen. James dialled Jodie with trepidation.

“Jodie-kun,” he said, “two things. Conan-kun’s mystery source—it’s Kudo Shinichi.”

“ _So he_ is _involved too. I wondered, but... that explains a lot. Anyway, what’s the other thing?_ ”

“It wasn’t Kid who kidnapped Conan-kun—in fact, he’s searching for him. It was Vermouth.”

He held the phone away from his ear as Jodie launched into a colourful, bilingual tirade. He gingerly put the phone back as she quietened down, though the rant hadn’t quite ended.

_“...filthy, soulless, child-murdering...”_

“Listen, Jodie-kun,” James said, cutting her off. “Put all the operatives on red alert. Vermouth may be able to disguise herself but Conan-kun won’t play along. Besides, apparently Kid’s not too happy about having to take the rap for this, and he’s tracking them. Both he and Conan-kun are liable to leave signs. This is high-priority, I don’t need to tell you.”

“ _Any idea where she’s going?_ ”

“Afraid not. We think she’s left Tokyo, although where she’s going...”

“ _Kir’s due to call soon, I’ll ask her then. Later._ ”

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“Kuroba’s no child kidnapper,” Saguru said quietly. “I’m not saying I like the idiot, but I know him and he wouldn’t do something like that—not unless he was doing it to protect the boy, and he wouldn’t destroy the cell phone if he was doing that.”

“Did he really leave on that train?” Yuusaku asked.

Saguru sighed. “Of course not,” he said, flicking his fringe aside. “We didn’t _see_ him go, we just walked him to the train station. He says he’s travelling with a few magicians who were friends of his father’s, which clearly means that he’d planned to vanish for a while...”

“I don’t think he was planning to vanish to find Conan, though,” Yuusaku said quietly.

Saguru shook his head quickly. “What did I say?” he said. “I think he expected those people to show up, though. They clearly know who he is—” he gestured to the burnt building. “—so I suppose he realized that it would be stupid to stay.” He ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the locks that he had just rearranged. “I’m thinking of informing Nakamori-keibu about this, but I don’t know if it would do much good. The last time I tried to suggest that Kid might be a high schooler, he wouldn’t hear a word of it. I could give him an abridged version for now, about the snipers, but he’s already on the brink of losing his job because he insists on having a hand in investigating Kuroba-kun’s ‘accident’, even though he’s been repeatedly warned that it’s ‘not his department’.”

“He already knows about the _existence_ of the snipers, at least,” Yuusaku said quietly, “if not quite who they are or who they work for. On Toichi-kun’s last heist, a sniper who was shooting for him hit an officer and killed him. Nakamori-kun tried to investigate back then but he was told, as you said, that it ‘wasn’t his department’. Which means, by the way, that one or more of his superiors is with Them.”

“But he’s investigating anyway!” Saguru said, suddenly fearful. “He’s in danger...”

“You might want to warn him about that,” Yuusaku said. “Listen. Isn’t your father Superintendant General Hakuba?”

“Yes,” Saguru confirmed. “That’s why I thought, if I could locate these bastards in the police...”

“There are a _lot_ of them,” Yuusaku warned. “Which is why I want to put you in touch with my old friend James there.” He gestured to a western man who was flinching away from his mobile down the road, an older man with thick grey hair and a hefty moustache. “He’s with the FBI. They’ve been investigating the presence of the Syndicate for some time— _without_ declaring themselves to the police, may I stress, because there are so many of Them _in_ the police. If you want to locate these people safely and know who’s confirmed to be clean or not, you might want to talk to him. I don’t mean to sound rude, but can you confirm that your father is clean?”

“Wha—” Saguru stared at the author/detective/who knows in shock. “Of course...” then he frowned doubtfully. “I... don’t really see that much of my father,” he said slowly as his detective instincts took precedence over sentimentality, “but... no. I’m sure he wouldn’t have been able to hide any shady dealings from _me_.”

“But you still have doubts,” Yuusaku said, a little sadly. “You really _don’t_ see that much of him, do you?”

“Well, no...” Saguru shook his head. “Listen, I’ll talk to your FBI friend for now. But I can assure you that my father is clean. Once we’ve located all of the moles in the police, he has the rank and power to strike against all of them at once.”

“All of the ones in the Met,” Yuusaku said. “To get every one in Japan, we’ll need to ensure that the Commissioner is also clean—or ensure that the chief in every prefecture is clean. I can already vouch for the chief in Osaka, Hattori-kun’s father, and a few others that I know well, but there’s still nearly forty more to check. Our best chance is to locate the moles, gather sufficient evidence, and take it to the highest authority that we can confirm...”

“You sound like you’ve been planning this for a while,” Saguru commented quietly.

“I’ve... known about Their existence for a while,” Yuusaku hedged. “It’s a slow process to confirm who’s truly clean, considering that they have some... amazing actors. For now... keep in touch with the FBI. I’d rather not see any more children get hurt.”

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“So this blew...?”

“One hour afterwards. Hei-chan...”

“It ain’t no coincidence, Otaki-han.”

Heiji kicked aside a lump of charcoal as he wandered through the debris of the small electrical company.

“Accidents gen’rally happen when someone’s there, or jus’ after everyone leaves an’ ain’t switched everythin’ off properly,” he said, “But this happened at two in th’ mornin’—nobody here, or had been fer hours. So it was deliberate, I’m thinkin’. Plus, there ain’t no trace of _anythin_ ’—even in arson, the arsonist don’t usually hang around, so you gets scraps a’ paper or disks or tables or whatever that ain’t fully burnt, even if the fire department don’t get there till after it’s burned out. But there’s _nothin’_. Either someone stayed to make sure everythin’ burned, or the place got cleaned out beforehand. ‘Sides, the company president lives in the blocks behind us.”

“It’s not unusual, Hei-chan,” Otaki said doubtfully. “Some presidents live in the same building...”

“Yeah,” Heiji agreed, “but this guy’s unusual ‘cause the whole time we’ve been here, he’s been glarin’ daggers at us. Police discretion, Otaki-han,” he added as Otaki jerked. “ _Don’t_ look. Besides, he owns a coupla other places if ya dig through th’ paperwork enough—an’ who needs ta bury the ownership a’ harmless li’l electrical an’ pharmaceutical places under paperwork? You investigated all a’ the employees yet?”

“They were all at an all-night Mah-jongg party,” Otaki said, “and saw the Kaitou Kid on TV. They’ve all insisted that everyone was there, so none of them could’ve done it...”

“Unless they’re all in it together,” Heiji said. Then he shrugged and turned to walk back to the police car. “Well, thanks for comin’ with me, Otaki-han. Mind if I have a nosy at the reports?”

“I don’t suppose it’d be a problem,” Otaki said, following him, “since, officially, it’s an accident...”

“So far,” Heiji said. “I’m gonna have a look through the files on the other two places that bit it on the same night. I dunno about you, but I find three unrelated businesses burnin’ on the same night pretty suspect—even more when it was th’ same night as that stuff at th’ museum... an’ if it’s th’ same night that two more file fer bankruptcy an’ another ‘closes fer refurbishment’, even more when more’n one’s owned by the same guy through the most complex legal work I ever saw...”

He trailed off as his phone rang. He gestured to Otaki to get into the car as he picked up the phone and sat in the passenger’s seat. “Yo?”

“ _Hattori-kun? This is Kudo Yuusaku._ ”

“Kudo’s oyaji?” Heiji said in surprise, waving at Otaki to drive. The glare of the company president was starting to creep him out. He hoped the guy didn’t think he was being subtle. “What’s up?”

“ _Shinichi’s missing. We think Vermouth has him._ ”

“What?!” Heiji yelped. “What the—”

“ _I don’t have time to explain, but we don’t think she’s killed him and we don’t know if she’s going to. On the other hand, we don’t know where she’s gone either. That’s why I wanted to put you on alert. There’s a dragnet across Tokyo but I don’t think she’s stayed..._ ”

“How th’ hell d’ya know that?” Heiji said in shock.

“ _She framed the Kaitou Kid for the kidnapping and he’s not best pleased. He stole the spare tracking glasses so we think he’s gone after Shinichi, which is really more reassuring than it probably should be. He has the means to find her but he doesn’t exactly have the legal angle to do anything about it, which is why he’s liable to make his presence known to the FBI or the police. We’ve heard nothing from him so we think they’ve left Tokyo. I just wanted to warn you to keep your eyes open. She’s still in Japan—there’s no way she could get him out of the country now that Nakamori-kun and the FBI have the police on red alert for child kidnapping—and if she’s gone south she may well come through Osaka at some point. It’s a long shot, but keep your eyes peeled._ ”

“Got it,” Heiji croaked. He felt terrified. Kudo was tough but, dammit, he was just a _little kid_ now, and if those bastards knew who he was...

“ _By the way, is it true that you’ve been investigating the Syndicate presence in Osaka?_ ”

“Yep,” Heiji said, tugging at the peak of his cap distractedly. “Found five cops that definitely ain’t clean, though I think there might be more, an’ seven completely unrelated businesses that went bust fer various reasons within a couple days... plus a couple others still goin’. Unrelated ‘til ya dig through the paperwork fer a short century, anyway. I figure if ya find somethin’ buried _that_ deep, it ain’t _possibly_ legal.”

“ _I think you and Hakuba-kun have a lot to talk about. He’s investigating their presence in Tokyo. I think he’d like to know your methods._ ”

“It helps if ya have at least three senior cops that ya know fer certain are clean. Only problem is that if I wanna confirm anythin’ I’m gonna hafta explain ta Oyaji what I’m up ta, and _that’s_ gonna be a long story. Hey, ain’t his oyaji th’ Superintendant General of the Met? He’s sorted.” Heiji frowned. “Geez... I hope he’s all right...” They both knew he wasn’t talking about Hakuba.

“ _We all do._ ” Yuusaku’s voice was quiet, not carrying the man’s normal serene confidence. “ _By the way... have you ever met Okiya Subaru?_ ”

“Whosits?” Heiji said, confused by the sudden subject switch and the unknown name. “Never heard of ‘im.”

“ _Hmmm... It might not be strange, he’s only been there a few months..._ ”

“Yo? Who is he?” Heiji asked as Yuusaku sounded like he was drifting off.

“ _He was lodging in our house with Shinichi’s permission since his own flat, nearby, burned down a few months ago... he’s sort of friends with Agasa-Hakase and ‘Conan’, though Ai-kun’s not too fond of him. He said he was going to relative’s for New Year’s and would have been back today, but he hasn’t, and the phone number he left doesn’t pick up... it exists, he’s just not picking up. Agasa-Hakase doesn’t seem to know much about him but he said Shinichi trusts him... maybe it’s nothing. It just bugs me._ ”

“Seems pretty suspect, but if Kudo trusts ‘im...” Heiji said, a little dubiously. “After all, that guy’s more paranoid than a schizo on the run from the FBI...”

“ _Quite. Well, keep an eye out... for yourself as well as him_.”

“Is everything all right, Hei-chan?” Otaki said worriedly. Heiji sighed.

“It’s all goin’ ta hell in a handcart, Otaki-han,” he said. “Can ya do me a favour an’ drop me off at home? I’m goin’ through the paperwork again. And remindin’ myself ta talk ta Oyaji soon.”


	38. Dead Air

Ran jumped a mile when the phone rang. “Moshi moshi?” she said rapidly, picking it up.

“ _Ran? It’s Sonoko. Any news?_ ”

“Sonoko...” Ran said, trying to swallow the crushing disappointment. She’d been praying that the call would _be_ news. “No... nothing new...”

“ _Oh... How are you holding up?_ ”

“I’m... well...” Ran slumped onto the couch. “I’m just... so _worried_...” her voice broke and she sniffed. “It’s been four days... And they haven’t found a body or anything, but there’s been no demands from kidnappers either... We just don’t know if he’s dead or alive or...”

“ _He’s a really tough kid,_ ” Sonoko said reassuringly. “ _I’m sure he’s still alive..._ ”

“Yeah, but we don’t _know_ ,” Ran sobbed. “We don’t know who’s got him, or why... I mean, he’s just a little boy! Why would anyone want to...” She trailed off as she started sobbing again.

“ _Ran! Oh, Ran, don’t cry!_ ” Sonoko said. “ _No news is good news, right? You know that kid, he’s probably knocked out the kidnapper somewhere and is headed home as we speak. Or maybe Kid-sama’s performed a daring rescue and will be swooping to your window with the brat any day now!_ ”

“I hope so,” Ran said with a sniffly laugh. Still, it felt thin, weak, artificial. “I’d better go, Sonoko. It’s nearly dinner and we’re expecting a call from Megure-keibu.”

“ _Sure. I hope it’s good news..._ ”

Ran didn’t move when she’d hung up, even though it nearly was dinnertime. She kept staring at the phone, almost willing it to ring. Four days. _Four days_. Anything could have happened to him. He wasn’t the sort of boy to bear captivity easily, so it had to be dangerous people who had him... maybe they’d hurt him... were they feeding him properly? Why wouldn’t they make any demands? _Why wasn’t anything happening_?

It was not knowing that always hurt her most. With Shinichi, now Conan... not knowing, letting her imagination run free, her mind spinning in circles, possibility after possibility... yes, not knowing was the worst feeling of all. Not knowing and the loneliness.

She’d barely realized how much she had come to depend on Conan in Shinichi’s absence. Whenever she felt lost, or alone, Conan was always there, chattering to her about some interesting new fact that he’d learned or book that he’d read, or sometimes, just when she needed it most it seemed, a few quiet words of encouragement, reassuring her that Shinichi _would_ be back because he’d promised. A child’s faith, unwavering belief... Ran smiled sadly. She missed being able to believe that, the belief that intertwined pinkies meant that nothing in Hell or earth could prevent a promise from being fulfilled. But the world didn’t work like that. Promises...

_See you later!_

_I’ll be right back!_

_I’ll solve this case and be back soon..._

_I’ll be done soon, I swear..._

_I’ll be back before you know it, I promise..._

_It might not be for long..._

So many promises, so often broken. She knew he didn’t want to, but...

She was scared for Shinichi. That little doubt was always there, the one that said that if she let him go, she’d never see him again. It whispered that if he left he’d never come back. The thought was enough to choke her, with a feeling like her heart had stopped and the air had been crushed from her lungs. She _needed_ him, she could no longer pretend to herself that she didn’t. She needed him, she needed some reminder that he would be back, and Conan-kun, with his unwavering resolve and his childish cheer and his quiet little eyes so like Shinichi’s...

But now he was gone too, and she didn’t know when—or if—he’d be back. Like Shinichi. Like her mother.

_They’ll all leave you._

Ran curled up against the almost physical pain. She raised her hand to her throat, gently clutching it around the delicate red orchid, praying. Prayers and hope... right now, they were all she had.

_Please... don’t leave me alone..._

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Kaito strapped the helmet on as he booted the rented motorbike to life. He held up the stolen glasses, clicking them on for a moment to check that she was still within range. She was nineteen kilometres away. He cursed. He’d quickly found that the glasses only had a twenty kilometre radius, fine for tracking criminals in the middle of Tokyo but not so great for tracking them across the whole of Japan.

He roared down the road at quite a bit above the speed limit, stifling a yawn. He was used to sleep deprivation. He’d once pulled heists three nights in a row, although admittedly he’d been pretty much about to keel over by the end of it. He’d slept a few hours since starting the chase four days ago, but he couldn’t afford to stop for long. She certainly didn’t.

 _What the hell’s going on_? he thought. _The longest she’s stopped for was half an hour, and I’m betting that was at that gas station with the broken pay machine and the brain-dead service worker. She’s not stopped to sleep once. Surely she’ll conk out soon?_

But the whole chase was odd. She didn’t seem to have any one destination in mind. Like she knew she was being followed, she was weaving all over the place, going north, going west, avoiding cities and sometimes seeming to stop for long stretches in the middle of nowhere, like the middle of a forest or once halfway up a mountain road. She was heading south again now, and Kaito had never gotten closer than ten kilometres to her, even though he only stopped to eat when filling up the bike or sleeping in brief catnaps, more than once while actually on the motorway. He knew he should stop properly soon, but the erratic nature of her travel pattern meant that if she got outwith the range of the glasses than it would be pure luck if he found her again. And he couldn’t let her get away.

 _No way am I letting Them frame me for child kidnapping,_ he fumed taking a sharp corner, _and no_ way _am I letting_ Them _kill Tantei-kun!_

He held up the glasses again to check that he was headed in the right direction and frowned. He was gaining fast—in fact, she didn’t seem to have moved. _Three possibilities. One, she’s_ finally _stopped to sleep. Two, she dumped anything trackable. Three..._ he swallowed back the bile rising in his throat. _It’s not just the tracker she dumped._

The road he was on was pretty quiet, a back road going around a mountain. The signal was less than a kilometre away. He reduced the range of reception to pinpoint it.

The signal led him to a cliffside road. He paused, looking over the safety barrier, and cursed the glasses for only working in a two-dimensional axis. He looked over the barrier again, but there was no sign of a road below—just forest.

A few minutes later, he was climbing down the branches of one of the trees, slightly hampered by the padding he’d used to disguise himself as an older and larger man. He caught a flash of colour out of the corner of his eye—red. He climbed over to it. It was a little red bow tie with odd dials and antennae at the back— _Tantei-kun’s voice modulator_. It was draped over a branch. It seemed to have been dropped there. _All right, that leaves two possibilities, neither of them good._

He climbed down more and found another pair of glasses hooked over a branch lower down. Stuck to them was a sort of button—a stack of sticker transmitters. Further down was an oddly thick metal belt with a deflated football dangling out of it and a pair of badly stretched braces.

Kaito gathered all of these up and then dropped through the last few branches to the ground, landing in a catlike crouch on the ground. His heart froze when he saw a pair of trainers peeping out of a bush, but they were just that—trainers. No sign of their owner. He breathed again. _Looks like the lesser of two evils,_ he sighed. _She dumped his toys, but not his body, so there’s a good likelihood that he’s alive… just untraceable now._

He scoured the surrounding bushes, turning up a badge with a broken antenna on the back, the smashed remains of what looked to be that odd little mobile that tantei-kun sometimes used, and two identical normal mobiles, both battered and one with the charm torn off but still functional, as he found out when he pressed the power button. They were both codelocked, though, and Kaito couldn’t be bothered to crack them. There was no useful purpose for it, anyway. He had another look around and found one last thing. An empty bottle—chloroform, judging by the smell.

 _No wonder it’s empty,_ he thought, shaking his head to dispel the dizziness that had come of sniffing the bottle. _It’s been four days and this stuff doesn’t keep you down for long—and if she only dumped his stuff_ now _, it’d be dangerous to have him any sharper than a drugged stupor. On the other hand, without his stuff he’s just a little kid… a disturbingly sharp little kid, yeah, but brains don’t deflect bullets, or even just a good fist to the face. He’ll be helpless. I can only hope that she’ll think so too and let her guard down... brains don’t deflect bullets but they_ do _leave a trail to follow._

He climbed back up the tree, pocketing all the evidence and deciding whether or not to drop it all off with the next cop he saw. Within a few minutes he was back at the motorcycle. He turned back, heading for the highway.

_I’m not too far north of Osaka, come to that. Maybe I should get in touch with Tantei-kun’s friend Hattori-tantei._

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“Oyaji?”

Hattori Heizo looked up in surprise to see his son leaning in the doorway of his study, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Heiji sometimes wandered in if there was an interesting murder case, but there was nothing except robberies today, and in any case Heizo couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the easygoing boy look so worried. Granted, it could be because that little ward of Mori’s that Heiji doted on like a little brother was missing, but Heizo’s instincts told him there was something else—even more so when, in an unusually paranoid move, Heiji closed the door behind him before speaking.

“What’s wrong, Heiji?” Heizo asked. “Has something happened? Any new developments with Conan-kun?”

“Oh... nah,” the teen said, shaking his head. “Nothin’ about the kid, unfortunately, although it’s sorta linked...”

Heizo raised an eyebrow as Heiji hedged, waiting for him to get to the point.

Heiji sighed and did. “I need ta have a look at th’ personnel files fer the Osaka Police.”

Heizo’s other eyebrow shot up. “Those are strictly confidential,” he said, “and I’m afraid that I’m not going to abuse my position to let you have a look unless you have a _very_ good reason.”

“Flushin’ out evil criminal bastards who’ve infiltrated the cops?” Heiji suggested. “Listen, it’s kinda a long story, but... basically, there’s this Organization that pulls all kinda evil shit, an’ they’ve been doin’ so for a while... mastermindin’ robberies, blackmailin’ an’ murderin’ people, whatever ya like. They ain’t ever been caught fer anythin’ ‘cause they got a million pals in the cops all across Japan. I’m pretty sure there’s at least five in Osaka, prob’ly more, but I need ta check a coupla things in th’ personnel files ta be sure.”

Heizo narrowed his eyes at the mention of infiltrators. The story sounded a little far-fetched, like an exaggerated mafia, but knowing the kind of things that Heiji has a tendency to get mixed up in... “How do you know there are infiltrators?”

“Well, I’ve heard a bit about these creeps from Kudo, an’ he’s caught more’n one fake cop ‘imself,” Heiji said, “but I got certain on the night a’ the Kid heist—the one here. One a’ the members a’ this Organization turned up an’ shot at Kid. Didn’t get ‘im, but then ‘e escaped in a police chopper. Since all choppers were on Kid that night an’ none’ve ‘em were hijacked, that means this guy’s got pals among our cops.”

“I see.” Heizo closed the folder in front of him. “And you didn’t report this on the night because you don’t know how many infiltrators there are?” Heiji nodded. Heizo was quiet for a moment, thinking it over. “Who else saw this man?”

“Kudo’s oyaji an’ the kiddo,” Heiji said promptly.

Heizo thought it over again, and decided to err on the side of safety. “I can’t let you look through the personnel files,” he said, “but give me the names and I’ll have a look for myself. Rate of involvement in unsolved cases and such?”

“Yeah,” Heiji said, pulling a list out of his pocket. “Thanks.”

“Who else knows about this?” Heizo asked.

“Jus’ Otaki-han,” Heiji said. “He’s been helpin’ me get a little info on a few cases. I’m keepin’ it on the down-low, since I don’t fancy havin’ ta ‘vanish’ like Kudo. I just... one’ve ‘em might know what happened ta the kid, y’know?”

“I see,” Heizo said quietly, looking over the five names and thinking about Kudo Shinichi—the young detective, just like Heiji, who had disappeared so mysteriously and not been seen since...

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Jodie picked up the phone the instant of the first ring. “Moshi moshi?”

“ _It’s Kir._ ”

“Kir?” Jodie said with a relieved sigh. “ **Perfect. Listen, I have some important questions for you.** ”

“ ** _It’s been pretty hectic here, so I might not have long._** ”

“ **I’ll make it fast. Do you know what Vermouth’s up to?** ”

“ ** _Not a clue. She’s vanished again. She does that fairly often, wanders off and does her own thing for a couple of months. It annoys the hell out of Gin because he doesn’t trust her, but apparently_** _Anokata **does so Gin doesn’t have permission to track her.**_ ”

“ **Wait**...” Jodie said in surprise. “ **So this _wasn’t_ at the behest of the Organization?** ”

“ ** _What wasn’t?_** ” Kir sounded genuinely confused.

“ **Cool Kid was kidnapped by Vermouth,** ” Jodie explained. “ **She framed the** Kaitou Kid **for it, but we _know_ it was her**.”

“ ** _What? Listen, I’m not in the very top confidences like Gin or Vermouth, but I can almost guarantee that whatever she’s doing, she’s doing it on her own. Nobody’s heard from her in a while._** ”

“ **What the hell?** ” Jodie whispered. “ **All right, I’ll pass that on. Question two: do you know about an operative called Snakebite?** ”

“ ** _Not much. I think he’s assigned to acquire something, but I don’t know what. I do know that the_** _Kaitou Kid **is a major thorn in his side. He’s been on the top-priority hitlist for about fifteen years. They thought they’d gotten him ten years ago, but evidently not. He’s in a bit of trouble because yet another attempt failed on the night of the heist and he’s starting to get noticed. As you may have gathered, the Organization is not fond of publicity. I think he knows who the Kid is but whoever he is gave him the slip, which means trouble for them as you can imagine. They seem more... it’s not panic, I just feel like some kind of deadline is coming up, badness knows what.**_ ”

“ **So Kid _is_ mixed up with the Organization** ,” Jodie said.“ **Does that mean Cool Kid was kidnapped as bait for him or something?** ”

“ ** _There’s another possibility and you’re not going to like it._** ”

“ **What?** ” said Jodie, in deep trepidation.

“ ** _The other day, Gin mentioned something—almost boasting about it. Seems he’s been an assassin with the Organization his whole life. He was boasting that he first killed when he was fifteen—or at least, it was the first time he killed on his_ own _. He was_ raised _by the Organization, and I think Sherry and her sister were as well. Their parents were with the Organization before they were born. I think his parents were assassins before him._** ”

“ **What are you getting at?** ” Jodie said, her voice carrying an uncharacteristic tremble.

“ ** _The Organization_ loves _children. Bright children, strong children, children who are still young enough to be indoctrinated into complete loyalty to the Organization. Think the Hitler Jugend.  Children who are born into the Organization are theirs from birth, but if they can capture a child with immense promise... we all know how incredibly sharp that boy is, how dangerous he could be..._** ”

Jodie could see it; Cool Kid, a few years older, with his powerful intellect, but with his strong sense of justice broken, those piercing sapphire eyes staring mercilessly not at a murderer that he’d cornered, but a victim... Cool Kid, a ruthless killer like Gin...

“Oh, _hell_ no,” she croaked.

“ ** _There’s a chance that that’s what Vermouth is up to. I doubt they could convert him easily... but he’s a child. He has years before he’s old enough to do any real work for them, and in the meantime, if there’s nothing for him but relentless indoctrination... they’re very effective at breaking people._** ”

“ **Listen** ,” Jodie snarled, “ **you hear so much as a _peep_ from Vermouth and you call me straight away, will you? So help me, that bitch will _pay_ if she’s harmed a hair on that boy’s head or a thought in his mind...** ”

“ ** _Got it._** _Shit, I’d better go._ ” Kir hung up abruptly. Jodie dropped the phone with a shaking hand.

“ ** _The Organization_ loves _children. Bright children, strong children, children who are still young enough to be indoctrinated into complete loyalty to the Organization...._** ”

“ **Dammit,** ” she muttered, pressing her face into her hands, as if trying to stifle the memory of Kir’s voice still resonating in her skull.  It was a terrible though, a horrifying thought, but...

Like Kir said, not impossible. “ **He’s just a child,** ” she muttered, “ **Just a _child_!** ”

And he made it so damn easy to forget that. _God,_ _If she hurts him_ , she swore angrily, _If she harms him or breaks him... if she makes him like Them then... then..._

She sighed. “ **Who am I kidding?** ” she said to the empty apartment. “ **If that happened, we’re _fucked_.** ”


	39. Fear

Shinichi was drifting in something akin to that pleasant state where you are still mostly asleep but just awake enough to _know_ that you are still asleep, with the difference that what he was awake enough to know was that he was drugged, not asleep, and in a horribly dangerous situation.

It wasn’t chloroform, since he hadn’t really been asleep. Whatever it had been had smelled of herbs and made his brain feel like it was wrapped in cotton wool, requiring extraneous commands to function. He must have gotten to eat during that time, since he vaguely remembered being hungry but he was fairly certain that he wasn’t now. She’d taken his gadgets at some point, too. Gadgets. Funny calling them that. Made him sound like James Bond, or more likely Inspector Gadget.

Part of him was awake enough now to be mentally smacking itself on the forehead at how much the drug had clearly degraded his brain, but he didn’t feel like coming out of the stupor yet. Something bad would happen, or he’d remember something bad, and right now there was just that faint smell of herbs and comforting numbness. It had been like that for a while. Days, maybe? Must have been. Sunlight shone through the bag when it was day, and there’d been no sunlight more than once. Just stale air, and the clothes in the bag insulating him, keeping him warm and keeping him from moving, and darkness.

But if it had been days, Ran would be worried, wouldn’t she? She had been before, a long time ago, when he’d left and hadn’t come back when he said he would and hadn’t called. He hadn’t gone home this time, either, and he couldn’t remember calling. He should, so she wouldn’t worry, but he couldn’t because Vermouth had taken all of his phones. Why had she done that? Oh, yes. Because she’d kidnapped him.

Shinichi was waking up faster, the effect of the drugs leaving him. Yes, she’d kidnapped him, using that weird mind-numbing drug to keep him under control. He only remembered snatches of the past few days, moments when the drug had been weakest. Mostly gas station bathrooms. He’d been hidden in the huge sports bag when she rode, which was almost all the time, but whenever she’d stopped for gas she’d gone into the station bathroom and let him out to eat and use the toilet and, generally, be re-drugged. He wondered what it was. He wondered _where_ he was.

The bike was slowing, he could tell that now. It seemed to be night, because it was so dark, only occasional flashes of light that had to be streetlamps. There was a drawn-out growl from the engine as Vermouth pulled up somewhere and killed the engine. She got off the bike, he could tell from the movement of the bag, still slung over her shoulder, and began walking the bike somewhere. The jolting motions suggested a forest path, or lack thereof.

Shinichi was now almost fully awake, and capable of considering his options. They were depressingly narrow and similar. For whatever reason, she still didn’t seem to be planning to kill him, but she was still at least twice his weight (he was hitting a growth spurt, unfortunately not as much as he’d like, and she was that particular kind of depressingly skinny that only looks good on actresses) and far taller and stronger than him. She also had a gun, while he no longer had so much as his braces. He could remember that there were two drugs now, chloroform and the strange-smelling stuff for when she needed him capable of movement but not much else. There was no way he could fight her and, judging from the near-silence outside the bag, they were in an isolated and unknown area; nowhere to run to, and if there was he didn’t know where. He probably couldn’t outrun her anyway, and he _really_ couldn’t outrun the bike. He was in trouble.

Finally the movement stopped and the bag was set down very gently, not knocking him about. There was stillness for a while, just a gentle _clinking_ of something metallic outside of the bag and the _click_ of a lighter. After a while, he heard her coming back to the bag. He didn’t move as she unzipped the bag. She smiled slightly when she was met with a cold glare rather than a drug-induced doze.

“I have to say, you’re _so_ much easier to work with when you’re drugged, **Cool Guy** ,” she said sweetly, “but not much fun.”

“What do you want with me?” he asked, not moving. “What the hell are you up to?”

“There’ll be time for stories soon,” she said. “Now won’t you get out of the bag? I’m not going to drug you this time because I know that you’re a clever boy and must have realized that without your toys your hopes of fending off me and my gun have decreased from slim to none. So you’re going to come and sit down with me, like a good boy, and not try to run because I am a very accurate shot and while I have no intent of killing you, I do not have any compunction about shooting your feet off. So?”

Shinichi slowly got up, wincing as every bone in his little body cracked and rolling his neck irritably. Vermouth was crouching under the awning of a dilapidated old shrine, barely more than a roof over a small carving of some forgotten god or spirit. She was stirring some thick, brown liquid that was bubbling gently in a Trangia stove.

“What is _that_?” he couldn’t help asking.

“Wonderful stuff,” she said, absentmindedly, not quite to him. “It’s too bad that it’s nearly impossible to make now. So many desire its properties. And they resort to such _terminal_ methods to replicate them.”

“Was that supposed to be an answer?” Shinichi said guardedly.

“Is a Kid notice meant to be a warning?” Vermouth glanced over at him. “Oh, _do_ sit down,” she said, gesturing to a small rock on the opposite side of the Trangia from her. “I don’t feel that I need to repeat my warnings about running away, so if you are to remain here against your will you may at least do it _comfortably._ ”

Shinichi sat. There didn’t seem much point in remaining standing, as the gun was still loosely clutched in her right hand while she stirred with her left. She let go of the spoon for a moment to drop some leaves of some herb or other into the mix, which slowly started to turn green.

“So what happens now?” Shinichi asked. “You said you don’t intend to kill me, but you didn’t kidnap me and drag me all the way out here for summer camp, did you?”

“I don’t know about _kidnap_ ,” Vermouth said airily. “Call it an intervention. The forceful destruction of another’s bad habits. Like compulsively poking their noses into something that is really over their little heads.”

“Trying to protect me from the Organization? How nice,” Shinichi said sarcastically.

“In a way,” She said with an odd smile. “What happens now, **Cool Guy** , is that I tell you a story. It will answer all of your questions and then some.”

“What’s the catch?” Shinichi asked.

“Yes, there’s always a price, isn’t there?” Vermouth said. “But the price will be paid after, and if you can pay it then you deserve to tell the story—if you can.”

“Forget it,” Shinichi said. “I don’t know what your game is, but—”

“You speak as if I’m giving you a choice,” Vermouth said with an amused smile, raising the gun to point it at his head. Shinichi stilled. “My game, Kudo Shinichi? Everyone plays games. Kuroba comes from a family of fine Poker players. You play Cluedo, all the facts already there just waiting to be unearthed. My game is chess, **Cool Guy**. The game is always changing, but with a little foresight you can control the change, control the players. If you can remember all the ways that the pieces can move, it’s easy. And I know how people move _very_ well. Like I know that you will stay here and listen, partly because you know that you have no other option and partly because you are a detective. Detective pieces _have to know_. And what you know, you can’t _un_ know...” a slow smile curved her lips humourlessly. “...or can you?”

Shinichi sat stock still, mainly due to the gun still pointed at him but also, just a little, though he was loathe to admit it, because he genuinely wanted to know what the hell she was babbling about. He nodded tersely. Something in the mix _gloop_ ed.

“Then it’s time for a story.” Vermouth lowered the gun but did not let go of it, idly dropping a few more shredded plants and some odd powder into the mix. “This story starts ten thousand years ago, when the holy jewel Pandora fell to earth. It was found at the bottom of a crater in the middle of a forest. It was found by a girl... a young lady named Eta.”

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Heiji rubbed his forehead. Damn, but he hated paperwork. Unfortunately, it was the only way to investigate while retaining the ability to breathe. He opened another case file.

Pretty much all of the cases were “solved” or cold, but the solved cases seemed to end in posthumous confessions from suicidal suspects, or suspects that suddenly seemed to come into either a lot of money or sudden death upon release, or convicted suspects who pleaded “not guilty” until the end. Not _all_ of the cases that his suspects had been involved in showed signs of being rigged, but nine out of ten cases that showed signs of being rigged involved at least one of his suspects. And in each case, among the beneficiaries or the acquitted...

He froze when a slight breeze ruffled his hair. It was late and he’d closed his window hours ago, and locked it too. From the inside.

Someone had opened a window that had been locked from the inside in utter silence...

“They said ya were on ‘is tail,” he commented, swivelling around in his computer chair to face the Kaitou Kid, who was crouched on the end of Heiji’s bed in full regalia. “Didn’t expect ya ta turn up here, though.”

“You were... the nearest person who I knew was clean,” Kid said, “and who was likely to be concerned enough about the boy’s safety to listen to me before producing handcuffs.”

“Talk an’ if it’s good, I might happen ta take long enough lookin’ fer handcuffs fer ya ta slip outta the window again,” Heiji said. Kid bowed his head, digging in his suit. He pulled out a number of articles, one after another, and Heiji felt his breath catch with every one.

The voice-modulating bow tie. The super-elastic braces. The high-powered shoes. The football-producing belt. The tracking glasses. The tranquilizer watch. The Shonen Tantei-Dan badge. The earring mobile, smashed. Two normal mobiles, battered but apparently intact.

“Shit,” Heiji breathed. “Is he...”

“I think he’s alive,” Kid said, pulling out a second pair of glasses. “Do return these to Agasa-Hakase for me, will you? I’m afraid she must have realized that a number of these objects unleash a tracking signal and decided to dispose of them. Or simply because most of them are just plain dangerous, particularly those shoes.” He shuddered, and Heiji recalled that Kid had had more than one encounter with a football kicked by Kudo. “The evidence is that he’s _alive_ , simply untraceable now. Oh, there was one more thing...” he tossed a small, empty bottle to Heiji.

Heiji sniffed it gingerly. “Chloroform,” he said.

“A freshly-emptied bottle when I found it, although admittedly that was some hours ago,” Kid said.

“Then he _is_ alive,” Heiji said, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. “Ya don’t need this stuff fer a corpse.”

“Precisely,” Kid said. “I’m afraid I lost track of them some hours north but she seemed to be heading south. You may wish to inform the police and the FBI. I’d do it myself, of course, but we tend to rub each other up the wrong way.”

“Got it,” Heiji said, staring at the glasses. Kid stepped off of the bed and over to the window in a fluid movement. “Hey...” Heiji said, causing the thief to pause. “I think ya oughta know... this ain’t nuthin’ ta do with you. Ku-Conan... that kid’s been a thorn in Their sides fer a while now, an’ there ain’t much he wants aside from Them goin’ down. Him or Kudo. We were pretty surprised that ya were involved with ‘Em, really. Seems like everyone’s mixed up in this shit. Just so ya know... Ya seem ta like handlin’ yerself on yer own, but if that ever changes, all a’ us rate catchin’ these bastards over catchin’ you. ‘Enemy a’ my enemy is my friend,’ if ya wanna put it that way.”

The Kid stood still and silent by the open window, his cape floating slightly in the chill breeze. The monocle and the shadows of the hat obscured his face, but Heiji wondered if he was showing any expression anyway. The Kid and Kudo were more alike than just the outward similarities. They both wore their masks and hid their feelings as naturally as breathing, hiding their true faces so well that you sometimes wondered if you really knew them at all. Though even Kudo would admit that he and Heiji had grown to be pretty close friends in the couple of years since that first case, sometimes Heiji felt that he barely knew anything about the kokosei-tantei turned shougakosei-tantei. Yeah, he knew _about_ him, about the drug and his favourite sport and his love for Mori, all of that, but so often, Kudo’s actions or reactions took him completely by surprise—when he said that allowing a suspect to commit suicide was tantamount to murder, his ability to see the truth that no-one else would consider because it was simply unthinkable, when he organised _two_ FBI strikes, facing a serial killer and all-round sadistic bitch on his own in the process, how he weighed the law and justice against each other and always let the latter win, willing to prompt the murderer into an altered confession to protect the innocent or lay devastating psychological traps or break into a suspect’s room to find the hard evidence necessary...

_...relative justice. He’d knocked out cops when searching for Kid and stolen the evidence he needed. Kid had laid traps for those who murdered in his name and disguised himself as the police to lead them to the truth. Like the yin and yang of justice, and how easy it might be to switch the two of them..._

“We’ve got th’ same goals,” Heiji said quietly. “You an’ him ain’t so different.”

“And yet, you have never mentioned why the Syndicate is _your_ fight,” Kid mused softly.

“It’s my best pal’s fight,” Heiji said, “and I ain’t gonna let ‘im die in it ‘cause ‘e was fightin’ it alone, no matter how much ‘e wants me ta.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” Kid said, stepping up to the window ledge and promptly vanishing. Heiji got up after a moment and strode over to close the window and relock it. There was no sign of tampering on the glass. Maybe he’d picked the lock.

 _Damn skilled thief,_ he thought. _Gotta be glad that he an’ Kudo are always balancin’ each other out rather’n workin’ together. Man, the cops are screwed with_ one _Kid, I’d hate ta think of_ two _..._

Another thought hit him, and he shivered. _Or worse... Kid’s bad enough as a stric’ly non-violent thief—well, mostly a prankster more’n anythin’ else, really. If ‘e wanted ta turn them talents ta anythin’ more dangerous... Same ways with Kudo, I guess. Gotta be glad they both got a_ way _deep ingrained sense a’ justice, even if it ain’t nuthin’ ta do with th’ law in Kid’s case..._

He stood by the window, watching the items that Kid had left but not touching them. He doubted there’d be fingerprints, but just in case, he went to his desk and pulled a pair of gloves and a number of plastic evidence bags. Methodically, automatically, he started to bag and tag the boy’s strange accessories, piling the bags on the end of his bed. Then he pulled out his phone, pausing as he decided who to call first. Kudo’s oyaji could contact the FBI and get them out here, but the local police needed to activate as soon as possible.

“Heiji?”

He turned to see his mother standing in the doorway, looking a little confused. “Thought I heard voices up here,” she explained. Then she narrowed her eyes on the piles of plastic bags at the end of the bed. “What’s all that?”

“Can ya do me a favour, Ofukuro?” Heiji said. “Tell Oyaji ta get the cops on red alert. Seems like the person who kidnapped Conan was last seen in this prefecture.”

“What? The kid’s been seen?” Shizuka said in shock. “The kid’s alive, then?”

“I think so,” Heiji said. “C’mon, I’ll explain what happened in a minute. You an’ Oyaji call the cops out, I’ll let Mori-Ojisan know.”

Once again, however, as his mother rushed out of the room, it was not the Mori Detective Agency he dialled.

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Yuusaku sat quietly at his study desk, his laptop screen glowing in front of him. Unfortunately, worry over a missing nephew did not seem to keep the unsympathetic editors off of his back, and it was only made worse by the fact that it was his son who was missing and he couldn’t tell _anyone_. Yukiko had been taking early nights since the kidnapping, though she didn’t sleep well without a sleeping pill. Her constant low-level state of worry about Shinichi had been massively elevated, not entirely surprising though she tried to reassure herself that her old friend wouldn’t kill her son. Yuusaku thought that she wouldn’t kill him, not after what Toichi had heard... but he couldn’t help being afraid. What the hell was she doing?

Strangely, the anxiety was causing inspiration for his current novel to flow thick and fast. He only had a couple of chapters left anyway. If he could just finish them, he could take any amount of leave before starting on another, and he could really do without his editors on his case.

He started typing, an old conversation replaying itself in his head.

“ _... overall, he rather sounds like... well, me._ ”

“ _He is, in a way. He’s what I’m always thankful you’re not..._ ”

_A contemplative silence, staring at the novel cover, laughing children in the distance. “Yes... I’m thankful too...”_

This would be the twentieth novel featuring the Night Baron, so maybe, to mark such a special occasion, it was time for a little revelation—just a little one, in the last chapter of the novel. Ah, the joys of evil cliffhangers. It also meant that he could stop writing for however long was necessary, since the editors would be too determined to secure his next book to lose interest, no matter how long they had to wait. He could go on hiatus long enough to see the war through... the quiet war that had been waged in the shadows of society for decades, if not longer, a war that was threatening to claim his son.

_... and though he looked upon flesh and blood now, in some way, it still felt as if he were gazing upon the grinning mask..._

The phone rang. He quickly picked it up, as Yukiko had managed to fall into a relatively peaceful sleep and he didn’t intend to wake her from that. “Moshi moshi?” he said quietly.

“ _It’s Hattori Heiji. I got good news which is still kinda bad, and bad news that’s_ all _bad._ ”

“Do your worst.”

“ _The good part is, Kudo’s alive. The bad news is, Kid ain’t able ta track ‘im anymore. Seems Vermouth dumped all a’ Kudo’s stuff off’f a cliff. Glasses, badge, phones, the whole bit. So Kid’s lost track a’ her, but ‘e found a freshly-emptied bottle a’ chloroform as well, so we think he’s probably still alive, or was as of the stuff bein’ dumped. Ya don’t need chloroform ta control a corpse. Oyaji’s puttin’ every cop in the prefecture on red alert, since she was last seen ‘ere. Thought I oughta let ya know._ ”

“Glad you did,” Yuusaku said, keeping his tone calm even though his heart was hammering. “I’ll call James. By the way... did Kid mention anything else...?”

“ _No, but I let ‘im know that Kudo’s already been fightin’ the Org fer a while. ‘Conan’ too. ‘E looked kinda guilty, like ‘e thought Kudo’d been kidnapped ‘cause of ‘is association with ‘im or somethin’. He vanished pretty quick anyway. I gotta go, Oyaji an’ Ofukuro wanna know what the hell’s goin’ on..._ ”

Yuusaku gently set the phone down when Heiji hung up, staring unseeingly at the screen.

“What if she thinks...” he said quietly to himself, then shook his head. No time for that now. The FBI must be alerted. He picked up the phone again and dialled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the point where I originally started posting the companion fic, The First Woman In The World, with one chapter of that being posted for every fifth WPBIO chapter. As I'm reposting in batches of five, there will henceforth be a TFWITW chapter with every batch :P However, it is not actually necessary to read through TFWITW until after Chapter 78--Pandora, and if you're reading this after this fic has been fully posted, you may wish to wait until then to read through it in order to avoid spoilers.


	40. Shock

Kaito leaned against the door of the cheap hotel room he’d rented in disguise, tearing off his wig and mask and running his fingers through his hair. He was feeling shaken. He’d thought only Kudo Shinichi and Edogawa Conan could read minds like that. Maybe it was a talent universal to detectives.

_“I think ya oughta know... this ain’t nuthin’ ta do with you. Ku-Conan... that kid’s been a thorn in Their sides fer a while now, an’ there ain’t much he wants aside from Them goin’ down...”_

Instead of being relieved that Conan’s present situation wasn’t his fault, however, Kaito’s fears only increased. What the hell was this Shadow Syndicate, that even children were fighting for their lives against it? How the hell did Tantei-kun and Kudo get mixed up in this?

_“Seems like everyone’s mixed up in this shit...”_

_Damn straight,_ he thought. _But does that mean... when Kudo Yuusaku was wanting to talk to me about... the reason they kept quiet at the museum..._

He sat down heavily on the bed, rubbing his face in his hands. He should really get some proper sleep, he knew, but he was suddenly too wired. He had too much to think about.

 _What do I do now?_ he wondered. _Sleep, obviously. But then... I’ve lost her trail and I’ve no guarantee that she’s in Osaka. Perhaps I should contact Kudo-san and find out what they know. And I need to keep an eye out for any signs of Tantei-kun, as well..._

He lay back on the bed, still wearing his oversized outfit, suddenly terribly weary again. The whole world had flipped upside down _again_ , and he preferred it to only do that if he was the one on the other end of the spatula. Eight days ago, he was hanging out with Aoko and Hakuba and Akako, waiting for New Year. Things had changed more than he’d imagined since then.  Now that he had a moment to rest, he missed Aoko terribly, and even Hakuba and Akako. He felt _lonely_ , desolate in his self-enforced solitude. The others would be back to school now, in class with everyone, hanging out with each other, living _normal_ lives (though Hakuba probably stretched that definition, and it certainly had nothing to do with Akako). He didn’t want to get his friends involved, especially now that the Syndicate knew who he was, but...

_“Ya seem ta like handlin’ yerself on yer own, but if that ever changes... It’s my best pal’s fight, and I ain’t gonna let ‘im die in it ‘cause ‘e was fightin’ it alone, no matter how much ‘e wants me ta...”_

_“If you need help... don’t be afraid to ask.”_

  _Would they feel the same as Hattori... if they knew the truth...?_ he wondered, pulling out the photograph that Aoko had made her father take during the New Year’s fireworks: The four of them on the balcony, fireworks exploding behind them. Hakuba was on the far left, hands in pockets, smiling a little awkwardly at the camera; then Akako, also smiling, although looking slightly perturbed as Aoko had one arm around her shoulders; and second from the far right, Aoko, laughing at him as he made a rose pop out of his fist the moment before the picture was taken. Absent-mindedly, he traced the outline of Aoko’s face with a fingertip, closing his eyes as her laughter echoed in his head.

 _What I have to protect..._ he thought. _What I have left when this is all over... could I really ask her to be a part of this for me? Could I really ask her to forsake her deepest beliefs and put her life in danger for me? Do I really have the right to ask her to make that choice? Do I have the right to ask that of_ any _of them? Akako... hell knows what goes on in her head, but she’s got nothing to do with this. And Hakuba... his Tou-san’s the superintendant general of the Tokyo Met, and he’s committed to justice... a little_ too _committed. I know how he feels about Aoko. What reason would he have to help me? Besides, he’s never dealt with anything like_ this _before. I_ can’t _get them involved. I just can’t..._

He sighed as he flopped backwards onto the cheap bed. He missed them, damned if he didn’t, missed his mother, missed the relatively normal life of Kuroba Kaito; the life that he’d abandoned to find Tantei-kun and bring his father’s murderers to justice, one that he’d voluntarily abandoned, yes, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t miss it. _Those bastards took my father’s life, and they’ve taken mine, dammit... they’ve taken my_ life _, and I want it back..._

He rolled over and, forced by exhaustion, drifted into an uneasy sleep.

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“Is there news?” Ran asked anxiously as Kogoro hung up the phone.

He scratched his head noncommittally. “Sort of,” he said. “Apparently whoever’s got the brar dumped a bunch of his things, his glasses and stuff, around about the north end of Osaka. Seems the Kaitou Kid found it all and left it with that dark-skinned tantei brat. They’ve still not found that brat or the kidnapper, though since the Kid found an empty bottle of chloroform as well they think he’s alive, and maybe still somewhere in the prefecture—”

“So we have to go there!” Ran demanded. “Call and get train tickets to Osaka...”

“Hold on!” her father said. “They don’t know whether he’s even in the prefecture anymore—this could be a bluff to distract the police from the kidnapper’s trail. Besides, if they find anything while we’re on the train to Osaka, how are they going to contact us?”

“So I’ll go on my own and you wait here by the phone,” Ran said firmly.

“What about school?” Kogoro demanded. The school year had resumed the previous day.

“Otou-san, I’m so worried I can’t concentrate!” Ran said angrily. “My education will probably suffer _less_ from a couple of days off that those days spent worrying myself to death! I _have_ to go!”

“Where are you going?”

“Eri?!” Kogoro spluttered, whirling around to face the woman in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to find out if there was any news of Conan-kun,” Eri said pointedly, glancing over at her daughter. “Has something happened?”

“Kid contacted the Osaka police, he found a few of Conan-kun’s things,” Ran said quickly. “I’m headed out there, at least to pick up his things. Otou-san’s going to stay here in case something comes up elsewhere.”

“I’ll come with you,” Eri offered. She flushed when they looked at her in surprise. “Well, I’m not working on a case at the moment, and I really don’t spend enough time with you, you know, Ran. I think a little mother-daughter time would be nice, wouldn’t you?”

Ran smiled gently, but it struck Eri that the smile was a little thin—a token smile forced up to indicate a small happiness that was drowned in a sea of worries and fears. “That’d be great! I’m going to pack an overnight bag!” The teenager ran off, up the stairs to the apartment above the office. Eri glanced at Kogoro, who quickly looked away and shuffled some of the paperwork on his desk as if he hadn’t just been watching her.

“What?” she said defensively.

“What what?” Kogoro shot back. “Did I say anything?”

“Oh, never mind,” Eri sighed, turning to go out the door and wait by the car for Ran.

“Hey, Eri,” Kogoro said. She turned back to look at him, pausing in surprise at the expression. “It’s... I mean, I think it’s a good thing that you’re going with Ran. I think... she kind of misses you. She’d kind of lonely sometimes, I think...” He fiddled with the paperwork again as he trailed off.

 _He never was good with words,_ Eri remembered with a slightly sad smile. _It’s so easy to misinterpret what he means..._

“Thank you,” she said tentatively.

“It’s just...” he cleared his throat. “Even when you left, that tantei brat was always there for her... and when he left too, that kid Conan popped up a couple of days later, and he’s been really supportive to her. I’m... not good at that, so I’m kinda glad, even if he _is_ the most annoying brat since the Kudo kid...” He trailed off again, brows furrowing as he tried to compose his thoughts. “What I mean is, now _he’s_ vanished too, if he’s hurt or isn’t found soon or anything... I kinda think Ran needs some support around and, uh, you’re always better at that than me... I mean...”

 _Is he asking me to come back?_ Eri thought in surprise, though really maybe it wasn’t so surprising. After all, he’d asked once before, on their anniversary a couple of years ago... _That’s right, he’s not good with words,_ she reminded herself. _So maybe it’s hard for him to communicate... if he misses me too..._

“If Ran needs support,” she said quietly, flushing a little, “I’m... I’m sure I can come around more often. I really should spend more time with her, after all...”

“What’s that?”

They both whipped around, red-faced, as Ran stepped back into the doorway of the office, now in her coat with a bag slung over her shoulder.

“I was just saying that if _she_ wants to come coddle you, I can put up with it,” Kogoro grumbled, reverting to his normal gruff front.

“Only as long as I can endure _you_ , I’m sure,” Eri said loftily, stalking out of the door. “Come on, I’ve got my car with me, we can drive...”

“Have a safe trip,” Kogoro said, so quietly that Eri barely heard him. Still, she allowed a secretive little smile to surface while Ran was busy putting her bag in the boot.

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“Aoko-chan? Aoko-chan!”

Aoko blinked as Akako snapped her fingers in front of her eyes. Her long black nails made the sound unsettlingly loud, and Saguru swore he could see sparks coming off of the talons. “Akako-chan? Something wrong?”

“You’ve been dozing off,” Akako said huffily. “You were doing that in class, too. You’re lucky sensei never called on you.”

“Sorry,” Aoko sighed, swinging her bag a little as they paused to wait for the traffic lights to change. “I was just wondering about Kaito... I wonder if he’s doing all right. I’m just glad he wasn’t in house when it burned... I wonder if he knows about that. He hasn’t called or anything since he left. I mean, they say no news is good news, but...”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Saguru lied reassuringly. He had no idea what Kuroba was doing any more than Aoko did, but he knew that Kuroba could handle himself; disappearing into the shadows was what he did best, and frankly, the ones who should really be worried were probably whoever had kidnapped Edogawa Conan. Saguru didn’t believe for a minute that Kuroba was a child kidnapper, but he wasn’t sure what to think of the people that he was fighting—the people who’d been at the heists in both Osaka and Beika. If Conan had been caught in the crossfire, had gotten mixed up in the fight... “The fool’s probably too wrapped up in his tricks and shows to think that you might be worrying.”

“That sounds like him,” Aoko laughed as they moved out into the street. “But he gets most absorbed when he’s upset about something... I think it’s called displacement or something. He just doesn’t think about it...”

“And you think too much about it,” Akako said. “I’m sure Kuroba-kun will be fine. You know he wouldn’t want you to be worrying.”

“Yeah...” Aoko said with a sudden, gentle smile. “He hates it when I worry. He’s good at cheering people up...”

“Because he’s insane,” Saguru muttered. Aloud, he said, “I’m sure he’ll call or something soon. Don’t worry.”

Still, Saguru couldn’t help worrying himself as they split from Aoko and he walked along with a silent Akako to where they split up for their own houses. The FBI hadn’t permitted him access to all of their information— _I’m getting really sick of that_ —but they had informed him of what police officers they definitely didn’t trust. There were quite a few in Tokyo and one or two in each of a few other prefectures. Saguru was planning to go through some of their files tonight; if he knew what signs to look for, it would be easier for him to identify other rats. The sheer audacity of these criminals infuriated him. They dared to not only masquerade as the law, but to try to _control_ it?

He half-registered that Akako seemed annoyed as well, lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly, she burst out, “But what does it _mean_ , curse you?!”

Saguru edged away slightly. He wasn’t sure whether he believed in genuine magic or not, but the last time Akako had uttered the words “curse you”, Kuroba had inexplicably turned purple—not the kind of reddish-purple that Nakamori-keibu tended to turn at the bad end of a rant, but a vivid lilac that hadn’t faded for _hours,_ and his hair had taken _days_. Akako spotted him giving her a wider berth and gave him a sweet smile.

“Not _you_ , Hakuba-kun,” she said. “No, I’m rather annoyed with Lucifer. Can he never simply speak straight Japanese?” Saguru was debating whether or not to ask when she continued, “I’ve been trying to dream up the missing child’s location, you see. After all, it’s been six days since he vanished, so the police don’t seem to be able to find him. But when I try, I always get the same dream—or perhaps it’s flashes of someone else’s dream. The crystal cage. The falling sun. The consuming shadows. What does it mean? Is it a memory or a prophecy? And what does it have to do with that child?”

“I’m sure I can’t say,” Saguru said with feeling. “Still, I know well how much trouble Kuroba gives the police, and he seems to _like_ us. I’m sure whoever has Conan-kun is in for it when Kuroba catches them.”

“You have a lot of faith in him,” Akako said abruptly.

“I have faith in him to make _someone’s_ life difficult, and if his target is the kidnapper, so much the better,” Saguru replied. “Good day, Koizumi-san.”

“Watch the shadows,” Akako said, by way of parting, as she passed through the gothic black gates that went to her house. Saguru continued on to his. He didn’t used to walk—his house was ten minutes on from Akako’s, fifteen from Kuroba’s and a good twenty minute’s walk from Aoko’s, but since his return to Japan he’d taken to walking instead of being driven, as a sort of natural progression from always walking home, as he’d taken to as a chance to spend a little more time with Aoko and watch Kuroba.

 _Watch? Makes me sound like a stalker..._ he thought with a frown. _Like Koizumi-san._ Well, he _did_ enjoy getting a few more minutes to talk with Aoko, but really, there was no benefit to his Kid hunt to be had by spending ten minutes avoiding magical pranks on a residential street in Haido...

But...

_“Batman is just a cartoon character. He’s not real...”_

_That night, Saguru had a lot to think about. His first confrontation with Kid. The first criminal that he hadn’t yet caught. The more he faced Kid, the more he realized that catching Kid would be no simple logic puzzle like the many murderers he’d caught. He was dealing with a real person—a real person with something to hide._

_“A high school student?! Are you kidding me?!” Nakamori roared. “I’ve been chasing him since I was 20! Forget this!” He stormed off._

_“Bocchama, is this data really correct?” the scientist asked nervously._

_“Of course,” Saguru said, watching Nakamori stomp away. “Get me access to a database of every high-school student in the country. I’ll find a match if it takes all night...”_

It isn’t impossible for the Kaitou Kid to be a high school student, _he thought as he scrolled through the database._ All it means is that the Kid that’s active now isn’t the same one which disappeared eight years ago... no mystery there. _He frowned._ Of course, that begs the question... who was the original Kid? What connection does he have to the current one? And why... did he disappear?

_And his search for data had given him one match: Kuroba Kaito, standing over his father’s grave with pain in his eyes and a target on his back..._

_Has it just become an excuse?_ he wondered. _I know I haven’t been working as hard as perhaps I could to catch the Kid... and even now, what I really want... is to protect him... to protect_ them _... so that he..._

_“Later, baka-tantei!” Kid laughed, flying away. Hakuba stormed away to the bathroom, out of sight of the cops, wondering how much scrubbing it would take to get the blue colouring out of his hair. But he also wanted out of sight because... the exhilaration of the chase, the absurdity of it..._

_Somehow, he too wanted to laugh..._


	41. The Poor Child

Eta sat and stared at the stars, unable to sleep. It wasn’t the dream—no, she’d been having that so long that she was used to it. It didn’t bother her. She knew what it meant. But the last few nights, she had felt some invasive presence, something else seeing her dream. That worried her. Her dream was _hers_ ; a part of her for so long, her fate, her future. She wondered what was trying to see her dream and how much it would understand.

Perhaps whatever it was was stopping her from having her _other_ dream. She hadn’t had it in a while, and she missed it. She missed her children. Perhaps they only existed in her dream, but they were hers, and she longed to see their faces again, to hear their voices, to hold them, if only in her mind.

Or perhaps she wasn’t having it because they no longer existed only in her head. She had found them here, in the real world, seen their faces in her waking hours, heard their voices from living mouths. Her children were _real_. She may not have given birth to them, but...

 _After so long, I’m entitled to some form of madness, I’m sure,_ she thought firmly. She watched the moon. It was getting on for five o’clock in the morning. She had a watch—wonderful invention, especially since everything seemed to happen indoors these days, where one could not see the sun or the moon or the stars—but here, away from the lights of the cities, the sky was clear, and she had long ago learned to read the time in the sky. She needed only wait through the day, unnoticed, and nearer to nightfall... it would be time.

She glanced over at the now-calm face of the sleeping boy, the sweating and convulsions stopped as his mind slowly found peace.

 _Dear child,_ she promised, used to speaking to her children only in her mind, _sleep peacefully. I will protect you... however necessary._

She looked back up to the stars, to the fiery eyes that watched over her always.

 _Ancestors..._ she prayed, _I am doing what I feel to be right... have my feelings been dulled? Or is my heart’s course still true?_

The wind blew past her gently, from her side, tossing her hair. Eta wiped her hair out of her eyes, a little confused.

 _The wind... it doesn’t blow at my back, pushing me forwards on my chosen path..._ she thought, _but neither does it blow in my face, pushing me back. Are the ancestors saying that I am almost on the right path? Is something clouding my vision, causing me to choose a course so close to my true path... but with a different destination? Or am I simply travelling down my path the wrong way?_ She looked at the sleeping child again, suddenly plagued with doubt.

 _Even if this is to protect him... is it the wrong path?_ she wondered. _Well, it is done now, and cannot be undone..._ then she smiled.

_And yet, with these children who specialize in the impossible... who knows?_

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Ran blinked at the ceiling, taking a moment to adjust herself. Then she remembered.

 _I’m at Hattori-kun’s,_ she remembered, _getting Conan-kun’s things..._ She glanced over at the little pile by her futon, and squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden fresh onslaught of tears. Her dream...

“Ran? Are you all right?”

She rolled over, wiping her eyes, at her mother’s voice. Eri was standing in the doorway, already up and dressed, looking worried. Ran forced a little smile. “I’m okay, Okaa-san. Just a bad dream.”

Eri frowned. “Don’t do that, Ran,” she said, stepping over and kneeling down next to Ran.

“Do what?” Ran said in confusion.

“Hide it when you’re upset.” Eri reached out to smooth down a bit of her daughter’s bed-head. “That may work on that baka Kogoro, but not on me. Are you really all right? Is it more than Conan that you’re worried about?”

“It’s...” Ran twisted the sheet in her hands, wondering whether she should tell her nightmare to her mother. “I had this dream,” she said eventually. “It’s sort of a memory... when Shinichi left at Tropical Land, the day he vanished. I dream about it a lot, wondering what happened, wondering if I should have stopped him...” she took a deep breath. She hadn’t told anyone about the dream before, but it made her feel a little better to do so. “But it was a little different this time. He... he was holding Conan-kun’s hand, and they were both running away, both leaving... me...” her voice broke suddenly as she almost cried. She gulped it back, feeling horribly embarrassed. _It was just a dream, baka!_ she told herself. _They’ll find him soon, and Shinichi... he hasn’t called since New Year, no, but he’s gone longer than that without calling before... he’s probably fine... So why do I feel like... he’s going to disappear again?_

“Ran? Oh, Ran,” Eri said soothingly, gently wiping her tears away with her handkerchief. Ran faintly remembered her doing the same thing when she was a child, when she’d skinned her knee or dropped her ice cream and she was crying. The thought only made her want to cry more. “It’s all right. Cry it out. Have you properly cried since Conan-kun went missing?” Ran sniffled, shaking her head, still trying to choke back the tears even though she felt like a little kid.

“It’s just...” Ran sniffed. “What if he’s hurt, or sick, I have to look after him when he gets found... falling apart won’t do him any good...”

“It’ll do _you_ good, though,” Eri said. “Ran... you always do this. You hide your feelings, even if it hurts you... it’s okay to show if you’re upset, you know. No-one would think any less of you... it’s better than you breaking down entirely.” She sat back on her heels, watching Ran unreadably as she tried to control herself. “It wasn’t your fault, you know,” she said abruptly. Ran stared at her in surprise.

“What...?” she asked, confused.

“When I left you behind... it wasn’t your fault.” Her mother now looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“Okaa-san, don’t worry about that,” Ran said. “Why would I think that...”

“Because, somehow, little children always do,” Eri said with a sigh. “Kogoro and I... Maybe we just hadn’t grown up yet. We were going to get married, anyway, and then when we found out about you we brought it forward a little... and maybe some part of us had needed the extra time to grow up a little, and we started fighting like little kids do with the ones that they like...” Ran giggled, and Eri smiled. “Okay, I admit it, that’s what it’s like sometimes. I just... I think I should apologize. Because our fighting... it hurt you, too, right? And then I left you, and then Kudo-kun...” Ran winced. “I heard how you talk about the day he left. You blame yourself for that too, right? Ran, you know that boy’s nose for trouble better than anyone, don’t you? I’ll bet _that_ hasn’t changed since you were kids. You always do this. You put the blame on yourself and hide... I just... I don’t want you to get hurt, sweetie. I feel like I did too much of that already.”

“Don’t blame yourself!” Ran said, shaking her head violently.

“As long as you don’t,” Eri said gently, hugging Ran close like she hadn’t since she was a child. Ran finally gave in, crying into her shoulder.

“I J-just... h-h-hope he’s all right...” she sobbed.

“We all do,” Eri said. She held Ran like that for a long while until Ran calmed down and then, embarrassed, started rummaging around in her bag for her hairbrush.

“So...” she said tentatively, ready to change the subject, “Does this mean you’re _finally_ coming back?”

“Oh, _Ran_ ,” Eri sighed. “No promises, matchmaker.”

Ran giggled, then grew a little more serious. “Yeah,” she said, a little sadly. “They’re too easily broken.”

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_Cold. Wet. Rain..._

_My feet... so sore. Cold and wet, too. No shoes. That’s why. I’m cold and wet all over._

_Where am I? I’m walking... along a road. Where am I? I don’t know. I can’t remember how I got here._

_Where was I walking to? I can’t remember. Where was I walking from? I don’t know that, either. I’ve just been... walking. For how long?_

_I need to go home, right? But where’s... where_ is _home? Where do I need to be?_

_I... I..._

_People? A girl and a boy. Who..._

“Who are you?”

_So cold. So weak. I can’t hear them anymore, can’t see, can’t feel..._

_I..._

_..._

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“I’m worried about Ran-chan,” Kazuha sighed, twisting her hands around her umbrella handle. “She was still asleep when you left, right? Maybe I shoulda cut out at lunchtime to check on her...”

“Yeah, but Ofukuro would’ve chewed ya out fer skippin’ class,” Heiji pointed out. “Then she would’ve chewed _me_ out fer lettin’ ya... though when did _I_ become yer babysitter, I dunno...” Kazuha knocked his umbrella out of his hand. He yelped as he dove for it, shaking off a sudden drenching of cold rain like a dog. “Damn weather. Still freakin’ cold, but it warmed up _just_ enough ta be drivin’ rain instead a’ snow...” He was just straightening up when Kazuha stopped dead with a gasp. She had suddenly gone deadly pale. “Kazuha?”

“ _Conan-kun_!” she gasped. Heiji whipped around, staring at the boy further down the otherwise empty street.

It was him, small filthy and damp but it was _Kudo_ , but there was something wrong with his eyes, something blank, something...

...something _missing_...

“Who are you?” he croaked quietly.

“What?!” Heiji said in surprise. “What—Ku-Kiddo!” Heiji dropped his umbrella, running over to Kudo, ignoring the freezing rain to catch him as he fell to his knees, passing out on the road. Heiji pulled off his sodden coat to wrap the boy in as Kazuha ran up to them, holding his umbrella over their heads. Kudo was _drenched_ —he must have been out in the rain for a while. His clothes were rumpled and dirty, and his socks were filthy and worn through in places.

 _How long’s he been walkin’_? Heiji wondered, zipping his coat up over Kudo as his small body started to shiver violently. _Where’d ‘e come from? How’d ‘e get away? And what..._

“We’ve got to get him back to yours, quickly!” Kazuha said urgently as Heiji stood up, cradling Kudo like a large baby. “Is he all right? He... he didn’t seem to know us...”

“The kid’s just disorien’ed, that’s all,” Heiji insisted. “Prob’ly just surprised ta be free. Feels like ‘e’s got a fever too. We’d better get ‘im inta warm clothes, a decent meal... he’ll be fine. He’s a tough kid.”

“Thank Kami he’s all right,” Kazuha said, running a little, urging Heiji to move faster to stay under the umbrella.

“ _Who are you?_ ”

 _’E’s fine, jus’ disoriented, he’s gotta be,_ Heiji thought stubbornly, fearfully. _If he ain’t..._

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Ran looked up at the clock as she heard the front door slam.

 _Hattori-kun must be out of school,_ she thought, setting aside the little bag that she’d been packing Conan-kun’s things into. _Maybe Kazuha-chan’s with him... I’d better let them know that we’re planning to go back to Tokyo tomorrow..._ She was still deeply worried about Conan, but talking to her mother—and Eri’s vague assertations that _maybe_ she could put up with Kogoro if Ran needed her—left her feeling a little stronger. She had to be strong. Conan-kun would need looking after when he was found...

“Ofukuro, get some soup or somethin’ on _now_! An’ someone get some dry towels! We got an emergency!”

“What?” Ran ran through to the front hall, followed closely by her mother, and nearly tripped over in shock when she saw the familiar little face peeking out from the damp bundle in Hattori’s arms. “ _Conan-kun!_ ”

“We’d better get him out of those wet things, he’s probably got flu already as it is...” Eri said, hurrying back into the guest room for Ran’s bag, where she’d brought spare clothes for Conan, just in case. Ran herself was taking Conan out of Heiji’s arms and rewrapping him in dry towels that Shizuka had brought through, following Heiji and Kazuha, who were discussing putting Conan in Heiji’s bed rather than a futon on the floor.

“What happened?” Ran asked desperately, wiping rain off of his sleeping face with a towel. “Where did you find him?”

“Out in the road,” Kazuha said. “He was all on his own. Dunno what happened to the kidnapper, or how he got away... he just collapsed in front of us. So we brought ‘im back here. Dunno what’s wrong with him...”

The soaking, dirty clothes were the same ones that he’d been kidnapped in. Conan was a little thin, but he didn’t seem starved or dehydrated, thankfully. Ran helped undress him, figuring that the filthy clothes might as well be binned, and wrapped him in towels and Heiji’s duvet. He was dry but a little too warm now, a little feverish, and Ran sat with him until Heiji’s mother brought up some hot chicken noodle soup, any mother’s automatic response to a child with a fever. Ran spooned a little into his mouth as Heiji and Kazuha explained to Heiji’s father precisely what had happened, Heiji in a level of detail that Ran would have found astonishing if she weren’t used to Shinichi and his mathematical precision. Conan stirred sleepily as he swallowed the soup, beginning to wake up.

“Oh, he’s coming around, thank goodness,” Eri said, who was apparently on the phone to Kogoro. “No, we’re at the Hattori’s... I don’t know if she needs to come out here, we may be able to bring him back with us tomorrow... Edogawa-san’s turned up at the agency in quite a state,” she added to Ran, covering the mouthpiece of the phone. “It seems she called last night, and that was the first she’d found out that Conan-kun was missing... I guess she doesn’t have Japanese papers delivered to America like Yuki-chan does... no, no injuries,” she said back into the phone. “Just a fever, we’ll probably have him checked out by a doctor...”

“Mmmm?” Conan mumbled as he opened his eyes. He shivered. “Cold...”

“You have a bit of a fever, so it’s going to feel cold... here, eat a little more of this, it’s good for you,” Ran said, holding the spoon out, which he obediently closed his mouth around. Chewing thoughtfully, he looked around the room. “Where am I?” he asked once he’d swallowed.

“We’re at Hattori-kun’s house in Osaka,” Ran said. “Can you remember what happened to you?”

Conan shook his head. “Who’s Hattori-kun?”

“C’mon, kiddo, what’re you saying?” Heiji said, walking over into Conan’s line of sight. “It’s me, Hattori Heiji, remember?”

“Heiji... niichan?” Conan said uncertainly.

Heiji nodded happily. “Ya remember me now, right?” he said. “Ya were just a little confused...”

Conan shook his head, then looked over at Ran. “So... who are you, neechan?” he asked.

Ran dropped the spoon into the soup with a _splash_.


	42. Amnesia

“What’s five minus three?”

“Two.”

“And the capital of Japan?”

“Tokyo, but it used to be Kyoto.”

“Do you know where you live?”

“Ummm.... no.”

“All right. Just watch my finger... the light’s going to be a little bright, but try not to blink...”

Ran was pale white as the doctor went through the examination. Kazuha was hovering by her friend’s side, seemingly on the verge of tears. Eri was twisting her wedding ring nervously. Heiji stood by the door, face unreadable as Kid’s, but his hands fisting unconsciously.

 _Kami, he didn’t even remember_ Mori _, an’ if he was gonna remember_ anybody... he thought, watching the boy demonstrate that he could remember how to tie shoelaces. _This ain’t good. Amnesia ain’t good anyway, but..._

But on top of not remembering who he was, Kudo didn’t even remember who he _really_ was, as had become evident by the boy’s total confusion when Heiji had taken a lonely moment to address him as “Kudo.”

“ _I thought Ran-neechan said my name was Edogawa Conan,_ ” _he said, confused._

 _“Oh, it is, it is,” Heiji said hastily. “I jus’ mispronounced it. It’s the Osaka-ben. Some stuff comes out funny, ya know?_ ”

 _The kid giggled. “You’re kinda funny, Heiji-niichan._ ”

 _He really thinks he’s just a little kid,_ Heiji thought worriedly. _How’re ya supposed ta explain somethin’ like this ta a kid? ‘Yer actually my age an’ ya were shrunk by a weird drug fed to ya by a psycho assassin from th’ most dangerous criminal organization in th’ world, who still kinda want ya dead so don’t tell nobody?’ Yeah, as if he ain’t freaked out already..._

“Okay. I’m just going to talk to your friends outside for a moment, all right?” the doctor said, standing up and gesturing everybody out of Heiji’s room. As Heiji left, he glanced back to see Kudo pick up his glasses in puzzlement.

 _Even if he ain’t got no memories, his mind’s still a meitantei’s,_ Heiji realized, _an’ he’s gonna think it’s pretty weird that e’s got glasses that he don’t seem ta need..._

“He remembers how to function in daily life and general knowledge, although I have to say the latter seems quite advanced for a child his age,” the doctor said, “but his personal memories—name, address, family, friends—in short, his memories about _him_ are gone.”

“So what’s wrong with him?” Heiji’s father asked.

“Was he injured?” his mother asked.

“There’s no sign of any form of physical trauma, although I can’t be completely certain without a CAT scan,” the doctor admitted. “However, I’m inclined to say that it’s more likely to have been some form of emotional trauma—something put a block on his memories. This should fade with time, or if something prompts him to remember the event. Until then, about all I can advise is to get him back to a normal routine as soon as possible. The presence of familiar places and people should speed up the return of his memories. Try not to overburden him with information, though. He’ll just get frightened and confused.”

“I know,” Ran said quietly. “I had amnesia like this once. Umm... I’m going to go back through to him. It’s a little scary to be alone when you’re not sure where or who you are...” she went back into Heiji’s room, closing the door behind her.

“She’s right, this is like when Ran had amnesia,” Eri said. “We’ll look after him. We’ll get more tests done in Tokyo. He’s been in hospital there before, there’s a couple of doctors that he knows... like you said, familiarity is best.”

“I can see the boy’s in capable hands,” the doctor said with a smile. “Well, if there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask...”

“It’s getting late… we’ll head out to Tokyo in the morning,” Eri sighed, looking at her watch as Shizuka walked the doctor to the door.

“I’d better head home,” Kazuha sniffed. “I’m just goin’ ta go say goodbye ta Ran-chan and Conan-kun...”

“Come to that, where are you going to sleep, Hattori-kun?” Eri asked. “I think Ran’s going to want to move her futon in there with him...”

“We can do that, the kid needs th’ bed ta recover,” Heiji said. “I’ll jus’ stick another futon down in the livin’ room or somethin’...”

“I’ll help you do that,” Heizo offered. “We need to discuss what to report, anyway...”

“I dunno how ‘e got away from the kidnapper, an’ it looks like he don’t either,” Heiji sighed, following his father down the hall to the linen cupboard with the spare futons in it. “Even if ‘e knew where she was, though, I’m guessin’ she won’t be there now, an’ anyway we got no way ta know what she looks like now...”

“She?” Heizo enquired, pulling down a futon.

Heiji smacked himself on the forehead with the pillow. “Geez, did I not mention this stuff the other night? Aho,” he commented to himself. “Kid said the kidnapper was as good at disguise as ‘im, but definitely a woman...” _Kid didn’t say it, but we all know it was Vermouth,_ Heiji thought. _Crazy bitch..._

“You didn’t mention that the kidnapper was a disguise specialist the other night,” Heizo said quietly, shutting the cupboard door.

“Didn’t realize it ‘till Kid had left,” Heiji hedged. “Some a’ the stuff ‘e said... I was talkin’ ta Kudo an’ Kudo’s Oyaji about in, an’ they got evidence that th’ kidnapper is... _real_ good at disguise. Kudo’s run foul a’ her before.”

“She wouldn’t happen to be connected to... _your_ investigation, would she?” Heizo said sharply.

“She’s a high-up in ‘em, yeah,” Heiji said quietly, glancing around to make sure that no-one else was nearby, closing the living room door behind him. “All right... ya know Chris Vineyard?”

“That American actress who was placed on all the Wanted lists about a year back for reasons that no-one would explain,” Heizo said, sounding a little annoyed. “All I understand is that it was at the behest of the FBI. Is she the kidnapper?”

“Think so,” Heiji said, shoving the table aside to roll out his futon. “Problem is, Chris Vineyard ain’t her real name or identity any more than Sharon Vineyard was. Nobody knows who she really is, an’ her disguise skills are good as Kid, so nobody seems ta know fer certain what she really looks like either... so chances of catchin’ her are slim ta none, an’ anyway if ya try ta put out a public warrant fer ‘er, ya know _somebody’s_ gonna corrupt the info or slow down the settin’ up of a barricade...” he snorted angrily at the thought of the people who’d hurt Kudo _again_ , and still had the power to elude the arm of the law. “Not that we know where the hell ‘e was and where ta set up a barricade, anyways. “

“We’ll set up checkpoints anyway,” Heizo said. “Won’t make much difference if she’s in disguise, of course, but since one of the kidnapping suspects is Kid, it won’t sound too strange to request a face-check on everyone passing through...”

“Guess the major problem is what’s happened ta K-Conan,” Heiji said. “Our best evidence is locked in his head, an’ ‘til he gets his memory back...”

“In the meantime,” Heizo said, leaning by the doorway, uninclined to return upstairs until their conversation was finished, “You have proof of infiltrators in the police?”

“I ain’t got anythin’ conclusive,” Heiji said, “but I got strong circumstantial evidence. Might be enough ta make ‘em crack under pressure o’ interrogation. Problem is, they probably ain’t gonna be ranked very high, but gettin’ ‘em outa a position o’ influence should be enough. Might be able ta lead us ta rats in th’ rest a’ the police. Oh yeah...” Heiji snapped his fingers as he remembered. “Gotta contact Hakuba. He’s tryin’ ta find rats in the Tokyo Met. His Oyaji’s the superintendant general, so if he gets his hands on some a’ this stuff...”

“I will contact Superintendant Hakuba,” Heizo said. “For now... focus on restoring Conan-kun’s memory. You wouldn’t have any idea what could’ve done this to him, do you?”

“Nope,” Heiji said, shaking his head. “Unknown an’ terrible mental trauma is all I know. I dunno what exactly it was, though...”

 _An’ given the kinda stuff Kudo’s seen,_ he thought with a shudder, _I’m not sure I wanna._

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Kaito shuddered, and it was nothing to do with the cold night air. He carefully started picking his way across Hattori’s roof, intending to leave while drawing the minimum attention from the Chief of the Osaka Police.

Amnesia. That _bitch_ had done something to tantei-kun, and given him amnesia. If there was no physical trauma, Hattori was right—it had to be something psychological, and what could she have told Tantei-kun or shown him that would traumatize him so?

 _She turn out to be his mother or something?_ Kaito snorted. _All right, Kaito, time to think. Do your Kudo impression. You saw them examining his clothes before Hattori’s mother stole them to wash. There were leaves and twigs and mud, and the only place they’d pick up stuff like that is in a forest. His socks were a bit worn in the heel but not torn apart, so he can’t have come_ too _far. So the nearest bit of forestry to where Hattori found him is..._ He pulled out a road map of Osaka and examined it. He was in his night-camo gear, so he didn’t have a hat brim or cloak to shield the paper from the rain with, and so he only glanced at it briefly. It was long enough for his memory. _All right. Might as well check it out..._

He jumped off of the roof and used the tree outside Hattori’s window to make it to the wall without leaving footprints. As he passed Hattori’s bedroom window, he glanced in. Tantei-kun was sitting up in bed and Mori Ran was kneeling next to him, holding his hand and talking to him with a gentle if sad expression on her face. _Probably telling him who she is,_ Kaito thought. _That’s gotta be sore. That kid’s pretty attached to his neechan._ He didn’t linger, however. He had to get out of Osaka before the barricades went up. He dropped onto the motorbike and gunned the engine, roaring out into the streets.

 _Should I make a beeline for the forest, or take the motorway? It runs along the edge of the forest for a while,_ he remembered. _If she was riding down the motorway late at night, it’d be almost empty... and then she could have slipped off of the road and into the forest unnoticed..._

He turned onto the motorway to check, just in case. It was still pretty busy, but he needed to ride slow to look for any indication of someone entering the forest, so he rode slow at the very edge of the lane, allowing cars to pass. It was over an hour before he found what he was looking for.

It was subtle, and he almost missed it, but when he reversed and parked to have a look, there was no mistake—broken branches and flattened grass over the barrier. Someone had passed through here.

 _Do I leave the bike here? But it’ll look suspicious to police on the lookout for the suspect..._ he thought. _Maybe I should take it. She would have had to take her bike in, and it’ll help eliminate paths that’d be impossible with a bike..._ He started wheeling the bike in, as Vermouth would have.

 _Reconstructing the crime on the trail of the suspect... I feel like Kudo or Hakuba,_ he thought with a wry grin.

“ _You an’ him ain’t so different..._ ”

“More than you can imagine, Hattori,” he said quietly to the trees.

There wasn’t any clear indication of a path, and if there had been footprints, the rain had washed them away. But there were occasional indications that someone had passed through, and generally, he just followed whatever path he could get the bike through. Eventually, he came to a small shrine.

There was a little white statue inside, some sort of Kitsune, Kaito figured. He poked around a little. Again, no indication of habitation...

But there was.

It was faint, scratched at the bottom of a rock in front of the temple, hidden in the grass. He would have missed it if his night vision wasn’t so good and he wasn’t looking so desperately. It took him a moment to realize that it was several letters in the Roman alphabet, not very deeply scratched, as if whoever had done it was desperate to make no noise. He pulled out his monocle and clicked the clover on the tag a couple of times to activate the hidden camera in the monocle. He’d also been working on putting an infrared lens in it, figuring that there was no shame in stealing a good idea from your rival. It didn’t have a flash, but he hoped that the image would be clear enough, and he committed the symbols to memory just in case, though he knew he’d probably be puzzling over them for some time to come.

_VETA_

_Veta? What does that mean?_ he wondered. _It’s probably something foreign, there’s not a lot of Japanese words that begin with V when Romanized. Veta..._ Kaito was fluent in a good half-dozen languages and could keep afloat in many others, but he couldn’t for the life of him identify VETA. **_Vet? Veto_** _? What is it? Maybe it’s an acronym. But what for?_ he started looking around again.

Then he saw it, snagged on a jagged fragment of low branch—a couple of strands of short, dark hair, like some short person had forced their way through.

 _He walked all the way from here?_ Kid thought in surprise. _Did he escape, or did she abandon him and leave...?_

Suddenly, he felt something odd under the sole of his shoe. It didn’t feel like mud or grass. Leaning against the side of the little shrine, he turned his foot up to look at the sole.

It was a cigarette. He peeled it off. The ash was damp but warm. Someone had been here recently— _very_ recently.

He froze, glancing around, suddenly wary, ears pricked for any sound, but the pouring rain erased any sound or footprints.

 _Is this hers?_ he wondered. _It’s smoked right down... that’s pretty risky, if she makes her masks out of the same stuff I do, that’s what screwed up my Mori Kogoro disguise... If she smoked it this far down, she would probably have done it without a mask on if she’s smart, which she seems to be. Then again, she wouldn’t need a disguise out here... so is she still nearby?_

The bushes behind him rustled. He turned and flung a flash grenade in the direction of the sound. In the few moments that the light lit up the woods, he caught a glimpse of a figure in black running away with an arm over its eyes.

“Oh no you don’t,” Kaito hissed, drawing his new card gun and firing a couple shots, aimed to whip just past the runner’s head, hopefully causing them to freak and trip. Instead, however, they ignored the cards and kept running, vaulting over a fallen tree. Kaito couldn’t get a good look at the figure, but it vaguely resembled a man, taller than Vermouth—but then, appearing as someone taller or larger than yourself is easy. He probably couldn’t manage Mori Ran anymore like he could when he was sixteen and still a bit shrimpy. He vaulted the log as well as pursued the figure, but they were faster than Kaito, something that took him by surprise—not many were faster at running away than him. He burst out of the woods just in time to see his target dive into the front seat of a blue 4x4 and accelerate away, slamming the door closed as he did so.

 _Okay... crap,_ he thought. _I know she could easily change vehicles, but think about it; wouldn’t she clean out_ before _she left instead of coming back later? In a car that’s_ not _black? Okay, that’s an overly simplistic reason, but I’m getting less of the ‘kidnapping bitch’ vibes and more of the ‘police’ vibes. Or possibly the FBI. ‘So what’s the report?’ ‘Well, sir, I think I may have found the place where the child was held, and then the Kaitou Kid attacked me, which just makes him more of a suspect, doesn’t it?’ dammit. Baka. She’ll have gotten the hell out of dodge before barricades and checkpoints go up... speaking of which..._ he went back and got his bike, getting on the road. _I’ve got two choices. Get back to Tokyo or lie low in Osaka for a while. Tokyo is tempting, but... what the hell am I going to do there? Tantei-kun’s unlikely to get himself in any more trouble when re-memorizing his address. If Hattori’s making a move on the Ravens in Osaka... maybe I should lend a hand._

That decided, he took the next turnoff as a chance to return to Osaka.


	43. Rewind

“Oi, I just got a call from Mori-kun!” Megure said happily, striding into the 1st division main office. “Conan-kun’s been found!”

“What? Really?” Takagi said in surprise.

“That’s wonderful!” Miwako said, jumping up. “Is he all right? Where was he?”

“Hattori-kun found him in the road in Osaka,” Megure informed her. He still looked a little tense. “No sign of the kidnapper, unfortunately, but he’s uninjured.”

“Thank goodness Conan-kun’s all right, at least,” Shiratori sighed. “Kobayashi-san’s been very worried about him.”

“Kobayashi-san?” Miwako said in confusion.

“Oh, um...” Shiratori said, suddenly going violently red.

“She’s the kids’ elementary school teacher,” Chiba said, with an evil smirk at Shiratori, “and Shiratori’s been seeing a _lot_ of her lately.”

“Ah, so she’s your girlfriend?” Takagi asked with a grin.

“Look, it’s not...” Shiratori said, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“ _...like that,_ ” the guys, including Megure, finished in bored unison. “It never is,” Chiba continued.

“Anyway,” Miwako said, eager to change the subject for poor Shiratori’s sake and inwardly feeling unaccountably relieved, “So hasn’t Conan-kun been able to describe the kidnapper?”

“Well, there’s a problem,” Megure said, looking suddenly crestfallen. “It seems he has very severe amnesia.”

“What?!” Miwako cried in distress. “Amnesia? How?”

“Mori-kun didn’t get all of the details from Eri-kun,” Megure said, “but apparently the doctor said that there’s no sign of head trauma or any other injury... they’re bringing him back to Tokyo tomorrow to get him more fully checked out at the Beika General. But chances are... it’s like when Ran-kun lost her memory.”

Miwako’s hand unconsciously went to her shoulder, where there was still a faint scar from that case, as well as a couple of others. She saw Takagi, Shiratori and Chiba shudder unconsciously. She hadn’t awoken until after Ran’s memory had been restored, but she knew that seeing Miwako shot had been terribly traumatic for the girl, and combined with the fact that she blamed herself, Ran’s memory had vanished entirely for a time. However...

“Ran-kun got her memory back at Tropical Land, didn’t she?” Miwako said. “It just took a strong trigger. Maybe something like that will bring Conan-kun’s memory back...”

“Yeah...” Takagi said thoughtfully, “It’s just... I’m worried. Ran-kun’s memory loss was because of a... really badly traumatic experience, right?”

“That’s right,” Megure said. “She saw Sato-kun shot and blamed herself for it...”

“But Conan-kun walks up to the nastiest crime scenes without batting an eyelid,” Takagi pointed out.

“Like that firework case,” Miwako said with a shudder. “How does a kid _do_ that?”

“That’s what I mean,” Takagi said. “Something like that’s often enough to traumatize a normal person. So... what kind of thing would be bad enough to so traumatize _Conan-kun_?”

The room fell silent at Takagi’s words. Everyone in the division had come across the Shonen Tantei-Dan or Mori-san at some point, and Conan in particular left a vivid impression. Everyone was fond of him, but everyone was also more than a little freaked out by his tendency to run across murders wherever he went and, moreover, seem so unconcerned about it. The boy had a mind like a razor and a poker face like the Kaitou Kid. Miwako couldn’t begin to imagine what could have happened to him to horrify him so, to _damage_ him...

“Whatever it is, we’ll find out when we catch the bastard that kidnapped him,” Megure growled, “and then that son of a bitch is going away for so long, the prison’ll have to cryogenically freeze their body until we come up with some form of resurrection just so they can fill out another dozen life sentences.”

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Ai pressed her forehead into her arms, squeezing her eyes shut, burying the all-consuming fear that had overtaken her ever since Kudo Yuusaku had turned up with the news that Kudo had been kidnapped by _her_. Ai didn’t know why Vermouth had let him live before, but Ai didn’t see any reason why she should do it twice.

Unless she had something else in mind...

“ _... I have complete faith in you..._ ”

 _I wish I could live up to that faith, Kaa-san,_ she thought sadly, shrugging her shoulders to press the earphones into her ears, addicted to the kind voice that she could only vaguely assign a face to. She had barely known her parents, to the extent that, as a true child, she hadn’t been hugely bothered when they died. But as an adult, she’d so often wondered; who was she? What kind of people had her parents been? She knew their codenames, “Mad Scientist” and “Hell Angel”, but that told her nothing, really; only images that she prayed were false. She knew that her father had joined the Organization and the Project a while after graduating from college, and that her mother had joined upon their marriage, but she still didn’t know why. Was her father uninterested in what the Organization would use his research for, so long as he got funding to continue? Or did he really believe in the ideals of the Organization?

And her mother...

“ _...oh, and maybe you’re old enough to hear this now. I’m..._ ”

“Ai-kun! AI-KUN!”

“Hakase?” she called, stopping the tape, suddenly panicked. Had something happened? “What’s wrong?”

“They found him!” Agasa cried happily, bursting breathlessly into the lab. “Yuusaku-kun told me that they got a call from Hattori-kun! They found him in Osaka! He’s alive!”

“Kudo-kun’s alive?!” Ai shrieked happily, pure relief destroying any self-restraint. “What happened? Did they catch her? Is he all right?”

“They didn’t catch her,” Agasa sighed, suddenly troubled. “Hattori-kun found him wandering in the road. It... it seems he has amnesia.”

All of Ai’s euphoria deflated at once. “What?”

“He didn’t recognize Hattori-kun or Eri-kun or anyone,” Agasa said, looking crestfallen.

“Not even... Mori-chan?” Ai said tentatively.

“I understand not,” Agasa said with a sad shake of the head. “He didn’t even recognize his own name... _either_ of them, from what Hattori-kun told Yuusaku-kun. The doctor said that there’s no sign of physical trauma...”

“So it must be psychological,” Ai said fearfully. _He’s retained his sanity through being physically reduced by ten years, the ultimate identity crisis and being hunted by the most dangerous criminal organization ever conceived. Kami, what did she_ do _to him?!_

“They’re bringing him back tomorrow,” Agasa said into the extended silence. “Yuusaku-kun figures that they’ll ask Dr Ariade to do further tests, since he needs to be exposed to as many familiar faces as possible...”

“Okay,” Ai said, rebuilding her stoic mask. “If it’s a psychological rather than physical reason, then the right emotional trigger should do it... The main problem will be explaining to him that he’s actually eighteen and was shrunk by a strange poison in a failed assassination attempt...”

“Yes, Yuusaku-kun was going to come discuss that when he gets back,” Agasa mused, wandering off. “Goodness, this is going to be hard when, psychologically, he’s likely been regressed to a lost and frightened child...”

 _Kudo-kun,_ Ai thought, burying her head in her arms again once she heard the door close. _What did she do to you? What’s happened to you? Everyone there except Hattori-kun knows him only as Edogawa Conan. That’s who they’ll tell him that he is. So how do you explain to someone who’s already confused and frightened that they’re actually someone else, and that that someone else is under a death sentence...?_

Almost automatically, she plugged her earphones back in and rewound the tape a touch, pressing “play” again.

“ _...to hear this now. I’m really, really sorry that I left you, Shiho. I had to try, though. When I married your father, I had no idea what he was involved in... how very evil the Organization really is. I didn’t realize for years. I was happy, I had Atsushi and Akemi, we had our research and I’d never asked about what it would be used for so I told myself that I didn’t know, not for certain, it was all for the good..._

_“And then you were born, and you grew up, and it very quickly became evident that you were brilliant, far more than Atsushi or I. That was when I found out that you didn’t belong to me, not really. Nothing belonged to me, not you, not Akemi, not Atsushi, not even my own life. It all belonged to the Organization. They took you from me and sent you to schools for gifted children, and enrolled you in all of the holiday classes so that you never came home. I wanted to visit you, but I couldn’t—I was invested in the research and could not leave without permission from the Organization, and they wouldn’t give it to me. The research is too important. So I haven’t seen you since you were four years old, and maybe you can never understand how much I miss you, but I do, so much._

_“That’s when I decided that I couldn’t do this. I can’t sell my life and hand over such powerful research to such an evil Organization. But I can’t leave. That’s being a traitor, and that means death, and not just for me. Atsushi told me about the Kurosawa, a family of elite assassins. Ten years before you were born, just before Akemi was born, the couple were executed for betraying the Organization, and their daughter too, though I don’t believe she was involved with it. Their son only survived because he was the one who turned them in. If I left and was caught, it wouldn’t just be me who would pay the price—you, Akemi, and Atsushi would all die too._

_“As I speak, you’re seven. You must be eighteen now, right? And Akemi will be twenty-eight. Back now she’s seventeen, and old enough to realize what I’m thinking, what the Organization has done to us. She hates being separated from you. I don’t think any girl has ever fussed over and generally adored her Imoto-chan more than Akemi did when you were born. She still does. She visited you every holiday, remember? She’s too young to do any real work for the Organization—well, that’s not true. She’s doing light intelligence and criminal contact work now, I don’t know what she’s doing in your time. But it doesn’t take up her time and isn’t as important as the research, so she, at least, can visit you. I envy her._

_“She agrees with me—we have to get out. We can’t let you grow up with nothing but Organization labs ahead of you. So we’ve been planning and preparing. Akemi’s been using the mobility that her contact work has given her to rent a flat under an alias, buy disguise equipment, forge passports and credentials. We’re planning to run, all the way to Britain. Not England, but maybe somewhere in the north of Scotland or Ireland, somewhere small and unknown and secluded, somewhere where we can hide as long as we need. Akemi and I have made all sorts of plans. I haven’t told Atsushi yet. I don’t know if he’ll agree. We’re planning to take you with us, to raise you with peace and love and security. We’re planning to, anyway. But if you’re listening to this, then we failed. I’m making these as a failsafe. If all goes wrong, I made Akemi swear to look after you, to do nothing to put blame on herself, to play along as if she were trying to stop me. In fact, if things go wrong, I’m demanding that she turn me in. It saved the Kurosawa’s son and it could save her. If things go wrong, there’s no way that I’ll survive, so I want to at least save Akemi, so that some day she can save you._

_“If you can’t remember, please know now, Shiho. I love you, and I know that there’s a beautiful, kind world outside of the Organization labs, a world that I once lived in, a world that I wanted you to live in. I want you to remember that, while you’ll see all kinds of evil in the Organization, not every human is like that. There are kind people, and just people, and good people, and while the Organization so often makes them suffer, someday there’ll be someone who can make the Organization suffer—the fabled “Silver Bullet”. I want you to remember that the Organization’s control is not how it has to be. I want you to remember that there’s a better life out there somewhere for you, and a person who’ll make that life complete. I wish I could have raised you into that life and told you all of this myself, but if you’re hearing this then I guess that wasn’t possible._

_“But I love you, Shiho, and I want the best life for you. And now... you’re old enough to make it happen for yourself, if only you choose to.”_

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“Kudo-kun?” Nakamori Ginzo said in surprise as Yuusaku strode into the fire station. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard that they finished clearing out the rubble from the Kuroba’s, so I was curious about what they found,” Yuusaku responded, “but more importantly, did you hear that Conan-kun’s been found?”

“Really?” Nakamori gave a relieved sigh. “So they caught the kidnapper?”

“Unfortunately not,” Yuusaku sighed. “And worse... he has severe amnesia. He can’t even identify himself in a mirror, never mind his kidnapper. But I understand it wasn’t Kid, as he was the one who alerted the police that the kidnapper was in Osaka prefecture in the first place.”

“So it’s connected to the guy who keeps attacking Kid...?” Ginzo asked, running his hand through his hair again (Yuusaku understood why it was such a mess, considering the man’s constant state of at least moderate stress). “Have they found out the cause of the amnesia?”

“The doctor says that there’s no head trauma, so it must be psychological,” Yuusaku said. “They’re going to bring him back tomorrow and have a doctor that he’s... _was_ familiar with to do a more thorough examination. Are you going to want to talk to him?”

“If he’s got amnesia, no point in interrogating the boy, is there?” Ginzo said gruffly, lighting his pipe and ignoring the unsubtle glares from the firemen. “I’d rather talk to the Kid—or the Hattori boy.”

“I think the latter’s already given his full statement to his father, so you can probably get it from him,” Yuusaku said. “And who can speak for the former?”

“Indeed,” Ginzo sighed. “Well, you wanted to look through the Kuroba’s stuff, then? I don’t suppose there’s any harm in it—Chikage-san won’t be picking it up any time soon, and Kami knows where her idiot son is...”

The things were piled in a locker, with a man-sized portrait leaning next to it.

“Damn thing’s fireproof,” Ginzo said quietly. “Haven’t let them wipe all of the ash off of it yet, though. Said we’d probably need a professional to do it without damaging the painting.”

“I’d call that a wise decision,” Yuusaku replied, equally quietly. He opened the locker and flipped through the contents. Chunks of photo albums and thick books, generally the middle pages which had been most shielded from the violent flames. A few burnt or slightly melted ornaments. A pile of singed CDs, DVDs and cassettes that had been deemed salvageable.

“They just threw away pretty much all of the furniture,” Ginzo said. “We were lucky to get this much, really. What wasn’t burned was crushed when the house collapsed. It was a really violent fire. And, well... it seems it was only made worse when something exploded. They found a sake bottle which they think was made into a Molotov Cocktail and thrown through the window—well, a few of them. They think the explosion originated in the kitchen, like maybe the gas had been left on and ignited when the fire spread, but due to the house collapsing they can’t tell for certain.”

Yuusaku said nothing as he continued to sift through the remnants of the Kuroba’s lives, noting out of the corner of his eye that one side of the painting was considerably more singed than the other.

 _That room,_ he remembered, _was right above the kitchen..._

“So the Molotov means that it was deliberate,” he said carefully. “Do you have a motive?”

“Officially, we’re chalking it down to random arson,” Ginzo replied just as carefully.

“And personally?” Yuusaku pressed. “You’re a brilliant officer, Nakamori Ginzo. I don’t believe for a moment that you don’t have your own strong suspicions.”

“I do,” Ginzo hedged, “but... I want to believe that they’re wrong.”

“Because it means that you were lied to?” Yuusaku said, “Or because it means that you couldn’t save the original Kid... and are scared that you can’t save this one?” Ginzo, distracted and uncomfortable, didn’t notice Yuusaku slipping something into his sleeve from the pile.

“... I’m moving the painting out tomorrow, for cleaning,” Ginzo said, avoiding answering the question. “... Although what I’ll really bring myself to do with it, who knows?”

“If you want to talk about what to do about it,” Yuusaku said, closing the locker door, “I’m sure you know where to find me. Until then... to blatantly plagiarize my son, Shinjitsu Wa Itsumo Hitotsu, Ginzo-kun. You’ll have to face it sooner or later, so it’s best to do it sooner... before you’re too late.”

He walked out of the fire station again, face unreadable, a Poker Face worthy of Kuroba Toichi’s. No-one noticed the singed and tangled and cassette tape that he took away with him.

 _Sometimes, Toichi-kun,_ he thought, with a short, sharp smile, _It feels like you’re still haunting the Organization through Kaito-kun... and me._


	44. Unknowing

Conan lay in Hattori Heiji’s bed, curled up under the duvet, staring at Mori Ran, who was sleeping on a futon on the floor. Somehow, it calmed him, probably because Ran was such a kind neechan. She’d sat up for ages, patiently answering all of his questions about himself, and he’d found himself asking all sorts of questions that he didn’t really care about the answers to, just so she’d talk to him. He was happy to find that he was living with her and her father, even though she wasn’t his real neechan, because his parents lived in America but he hadn’t wanted to. He’d probably still be staying with Ran and her father, since the doctor had said that he needed to be around familiar places and people to trigger memory recovery, and Ran had said that he’d only been to his parents’ house in America twice, so it wouldn’t help much. His parents had to be worried about him, though. Maybe they’d stay in Japan for a while in case he remembered him. If he was going to remember anyone, he’d remember his parents, right?

Really, he’d found that amnesia aside, he had a really good memory. Even though he hadn’t really been paying attention to the answers to all of the questions that he’d asked Ran, he could still remember the answer to every one. The only thing that he kept forgetting was his name.

It kind of annoyed him. Surely he should remember his own name once it was told to him, right? Apparently not. It kept taking him a while to realize that when people were talking to “Conan-kun”, they meant him. Weirdly, the only person that he always knew was addressing him was Heiji, and that was strange because he was the one whose strong Osaka-ben meant that he kept mispronouncing Conan’s name. He kept saying “Ku-Conan”, and a couple of times he’d even pronounced it “Kudo”. Somehow, though, Conan’s mind had latched onto that form of address as meaning him, more than his actual name. It was a little annoying, like the strange feeling he got whenever he caught sight of his reflection in Heiji’s darkened window. It took him a moment to recognize himself. It was like he was expecting to see someone else. But no-one had commented about him looking any different, so this was what he really looked like, right? It was probably just an effect of his amnesia. But he could remember everyone else’s names once they’d been introduced to him, so why couldn’t he remember his own?

He stifled a sneeze. He didn’t want to wake Ran up. He still had a cold from wandering around in the rain. He’d been trying to remember where he’d come from, but the first thing that he clearly remembered was waking up in this room and not recognizing anybody. He tried to remember when Heiji had found him, but he only had a vague impression of cold, and wet, and sore feet, and exhaustion. He couldn’t remember who had kidnapped him, or what had happened to make him lose his memory...

 _Which is probably the point,_ he thought wryly. _Well... maybe I shouldn’t worry about it. My memories’ll probably come back sooner or later, right? So I’ve got to try hard to remember... well,_ anything _about myself. The more I remember, the more likely that something useful will come back..._

He lay awake all night, staring at the ceiling and trying to remember. But somehow, he couldn’t stop his gaze straying every so often to Ran.

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Akako jerked up in bed with a gasp. The jumbled flash of images fell through her head again.

_A red jewel and blood and the forest and the coin blank on one side..._

“All right, that’s it,” she growled. She strode out of her room, calling to her servant to set up a summoning circle, but she didn’t go straight to the basement. Instead, she made a detour to the bathroom.

“The circle is prepared, Akako-sama,” the youkai said with a bow when she finally reached the basement. He eyed the bucket in confusion. “Akako-sama...?”

“Silence,” Akako said coldly, going through the summoning ritual. Soon, Lucifer appeared before her in a cloud of smoke and fire.

“My dream,” she demanded. “What do you mean by it?”

 _You saw what has become,_ Lucifer began, _and what will come of it if the Black Knight is not—_

“Speak straight Japanese,” Akako snarled, hefting the bucket of cold water, “or I’m dumping this over your head.”

_How dare you!_

“I _do_ dare,” Akako said, inwardly amazed at her own insubordination. “You already have my soul, so what else can you do? Well?”

The fiery shape seemed hesitant. _This is most irregular..._

“Welcome to my world these days,” Akako snapped. “So?”

 _You are seeing fragments of an immortal’s prophetic dream,_ Lucifer said, a little sullenly.

“What does it mean?” Akako demanded.

_I cannot say. They are beyond my reach, thanks to the blood jewel—but if they miss their renewal, then that will change._

“So how can one be immortal? Aside from black magic?” Akako said.

_The blood jewel. At its mother’s pass, it cries for her, and those tears grant immortality—but they must be drunk at every pass, or the immortality will fade._

_An immortal?_ Akako wondered. _Could that be the unnatural presence that I sensed at the heist? The presence which, perhaps, took..._

“All right, I want to clear something up,” she said, remembering something. “What is Edogawa Conan to Kudo Shinichi?”

_What an egg is to an eagle._

“No more _riddles_ , dammit, although I’ll give you that one as an obvious confirmation,” Akako sighed. “And he is the Black Knight of which you spoke? The antithetical ally to Kuroba?”

_They are opposites, yet only in the sense that heads and tails are opposites._

“Plain Japanese...”

_Yes. Now put the bucket down._

“As you wish,” Akako said smugly. “Then my dream—is he dead?”

_He lives, but he lives blankly. He will no longer be the Black Knight until what he lost is returned._

“Blankly?” Akako said with a frown. “Is that why the coin is suddenly blank?”

_Indeed. The course of Fate has changed—He’s not happy about that, by the way. It can only be righted if the Black Knight is returned... or else..._

“Or else?”

 _The blood jewel will not be destroyed. The shadows shall be renewed, and then they shall hold dominion. The world is already in their grip. They are the eminence grise. And once they are all immortal, all powerful, the world will fall, and they shall escape my grip forever—which_ I’m _not happy about._

“Then...?”

_The Kaitou Kid shall meet his end when the full moon shines on the red tower._

“He will still die?”

_Yes, now he will._

“Wait,” Akako said, confused. “You said before that he will die at the Red Tower!”

 _I said that he will meet his end. I did not say that he would die._ Lucifer then presciently faded and vanished a moment before the water hit the fading smoke.

“Damn Him,” Akako muttered redundantly as she stomped back up the stairs. _All right. So the kid’s alive, but something’s happened that will set Kuroba’s death sentence. Blank. Blank... could it mean...?_

“Akako-sama,” her servant said, shrinking away slightly from her rage, “There is news of Edogawa Conan.”

“What is it?” Akako demanded.

“He has been found in Osaka,” the youkai promptly replied, sensing that Akako was not in the mood for anything but the point. “Alive, uninjured... but with severe amnesia. There is no trace of the kidnapper.”

“Amnesia?” Akako said with narrowed eyes. _Blank. I see. But how..._ “He is returning to Tokyo today?”

“I believe so, Akako-sama.”

“Fine.” Akako pulled on her cloak and stepped out into the chill morning air. She closed her eyes, reaching out her arms as she muttered the appropriate chants, and then, at the climax of the spell, snapped her fingers. In a flash of hellfire, she was gone, and at the same moment she reappeared in an alley across from the Mori Detective Agency. She crossed the road into the Cafe Poirot below, taking a seat near the window and absentmindedly ordering a coffee as she reached out, sensing for that suppressed aura of power...

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“... but thank Kami he’s all right... aren’t you coming to greet him as well?”

“I wish I could, Yukiko,” Yuusaku said dejectedly as Yukiko straightened her black wig. “But you already have to go as Edogawa Fumiyo, don’t you? Wouldn’t it look strange if Kudo Yuusaku went and Kudo Yukiko didn’t? Besides, I thought we’d told people that we’d gone back to America already so that Ran-kun wouldn’t ask us to meet ‘Fumiyo’...”

“Oh, you’re right,” Yukiko said, wiping her eyes tentatively, trying not to distort the mask. “Oh, Kami, I just can’t get over it... Shin-chan’s _alive_ , but... Yuusaku, what are we going to do? How are we going to explain to him who he really is?”

Yuusaku leaned against the dresser, staring almost unseeingly at the framed photograph that Yukiko had placed on top of it; a few summers ago, him and Yukiko in Central Park with Shinichi and Ran. That had been the summer that the two of them had first met Sharon Vineyard... and then, just under a year later...

“Yuu-chan? Are you listening? I really don’t know what we’re going to do...”

“I don’t think there’s any way that we could explain to him that he’s Kudo Shinichi at present,” Yuusaku sighed, jerking out of his reverie. “It’d probably just frighten and confuse him, and frankly it’s not that believable a story. However, his memories are bound to start drifting back...” he frowned as he realized something. _But it won’t just be Edogawa Conan’s memories that’ll start returning, is it? Sooner or later... a memory will surface that he’ll soon realize is wrong..._

“I guess I’ll just have to pretend he’s Conan for now,” Yukiko sighed, sniffling. “Oh, at least I’m not going to have to _act_ when he gets back... after all, I really am greeting my baby after he went missing, aren’t I? I just need to be careful not to destroy my mask...”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Yuusaku said, leaning over to kiss her on the latexy cheek as he walked past her, heading for the library. “And so will he, sooner or later. Meanwhile, I’m going to see if I can’t find some trace of that Pandora legend. After all, it’s supposedly ten thousand years old, so there must be some record of it _somewhere_ , no?”

“I hope you find something,” Yukiko sniffed, getting up and pulling out her glasses. “For both Shin-chan and Kaito-chan...”

Yuusaku watched her go, then shut himself into the library and set up the old cassette player.

It had taken him hours to repair and restore the tape, but luckily he’d picked up the skill a long time ago, when Yukiko, while cleaning out a cupboard, had left a box of cassettes on the floor, well within reach of an inquisitive toddler who was particularly inquisitive about exactly how long the funny black string in the plastic case was. Luckily, while the plastic case was singed and melted, the tape was not unsalvageable. It had probably only escaped complete destruction by still being in the tape player. If Yuusaku was right, the explosion had originated from _within_ the secret room—someone destroying evidence that would implicate his mother, himself and his father’s memory if found by firemen. Nothing else had been found, just fragments of a desk and chair, and a number of disks which, even if they hadn’t been burned beyond use, had deleted themselves when uploaded into a police computer. There was evidence of a large amount of paperwork, utterly incinerated. And there was this tape.

Yuusaku could guess what was in it, but judging by the fact that it had been long tangled as well as burned, he wondered if Kaito had ever heard the full content of it. If he had heard the full truth.

He turned the old tape over in his hands, carefully untangled and rewound into a new case, debating whether to listen to it. It was not meant for him, he knew, but what could be in there that he didn’t already know? The secret that Toichi had shared because he was the only one in the world in the same position as him...

Finally, he clicked the tape into place and hit _play_ , closing his eyes as his old friend’s voice, a little faded but still intelligible, radiated from the speakers.

“ _Hello, Kaito. It’s been a while. If you’re hearing this, then there’s something you need to know about my identity that I’m not alive to tell. To put it bluntly, I am the Kaitou Kid. No tricks..._ ” here the tape became even more fuzzy and distorted, and Yuusaku wondered if Kaito had even heard past this part. But Toichi’s voice could still be heard. “ _...evidence enough in this room. I guess I should explain why. I owe you, above all others, the truth—including the truth that I’ve only ever told one other living person, the only person who’s implicated in the same way that I am. It started a couple of years before you were born, not long before I first met Chikage. I was in Paris, and I ran into an old friend and student of mine in college, Sharon Vineyard..._ ”

Yuusaku listened to the familiar story, the shock that had gripped him when he’d first heard it dulled by fifteen years. It seemed no more believable than it had then, but Akai Shuuichi and Jodie Starling, he knew, had found the proof, if only they could recognize it for what it was. And...

 _When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,_ he thought, eyes scanning over the works of Conan Doyle on his shelf. _It sounds so simple—until you realize that the line between the impossible and the merely improbable may not be where you thought it was..._

“ _... But the thing is, when you were three, we were visiting Japan and I visited another student of mine, Fujimine Yukiko, although her name now is Kudo Yukiko. I’d met her husband, Kudo Yuusaku, before—half of the time when he’d been chasing me as a detective—but this was the first time I’d met their son, Kudo Shinichi. And then I realized that I could have been wrong. But was it you or him? There was only one thing to do, to ensure the safety of both of you. I asked Yuusaku if I could talk to him in private..._ ”

 _It didn’t work, Toichi-kun,_ Yuusaku thought sadly. _She made the choice... and it’s Kaito-kun. Forgive me._

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_ Twenty Years Ago _

_ Paris _

_Toichi narrowed his eyes on his old friend and student. Though she was swathed in the shadows at the edge of the streetlight, somehow he felt that he was seeing her more clearly than he ever had before._

_“No, I have no intention of becoming a criminal,” he said calmly, keeping his face and voice as calm and composed as if he were playing a game of Poker. “And if I didn’t know better, Sharon-chan, I’d say you were encouraging me to become one.”_

_Sharon_ _’s smile was cold and insincere._ Kami, but she really is an amazing actress, isn’t she? _Toichi mused._ I never suspected...

_“I think you have potential as one,” she said coolly, “but I suppose an innate and unfortunate tendency to honesty cannot be cured. Forgive me for trespassing upon your time.” She turned and walked away without another word._

_“What was that about?” Konosuke Jii said in confusion, watching her sway away. Toichi held up his hand to silence the older man as he saw another shape detach itself from the shadows and walk alongside Sharon. Faint snatches of voices floated back to him._

_“It’s no good,” he heard her say. “He won’t steal the jewel for us. He has talent, but he’d never be loyal to criminals.”_

_“It seems your little venture has backfired,” said a man’s voice, harsh, unfamiliar. “Now it will only be harder for those who_ are _loyal to get into the Louvre.”_

_“On to Prague, then...”_

_They drifted out of earshot._

_“Konosuke-sensei,” Toichi said quietly, “let’s get back to the hotel. I think this may be more than I thought...”_

Was she going to use me? _he wondered._ Sharon... what are you mixed up in? What are you after? Whatever it is... _He thought of the harsh, cold voice of the man, Sharon’s insincere smile—the things that sent a shiver down his spine now. In that moment, his old friend had had the look of a killer about her. And he had taught a criminal to perfectly impersonate almost anybody in the world..._

 _“_ On to Prague, then... _”_

Well, if I’m responsible for a criminal acquiring such skills, _he thought with a mocking grin, remembering the adrenaline rush of dancing in the spotlight, ahead of the police..._ Perhaps I am responsible to ensure that they are not misused.

“ _Konosuke-sensei,” he said, “How about we visit Prague next?_ ”


	45. Unfamiliarity

_Quite a crowd has gathered at Cafe Poirot to see Conan-kun_ , Saguru mused. Akako seemed to have been sitting by the window in some form of meditation since that morning, which would explain her conspicuous absence from school that day. Mori-tantei was sitting at a larger table with an old man and four elementary school kids, probably Conan’s friends. Four police officers were sitting near them and chatting to Mori-tantei; a fat middle-aged man and two younger men, along with a woman whose hand was intertwined with one of the men, the other young man chatting to a bespectacled young woman who was alternating between talking to him and the children. A blonde teenage girl was talking rapidly into her phone, probably to her boyfriend judging by the addresses she was using. A large lady with glasses and black hair was sniffling into a handkerchief at a table by the window, staring out at the street. She was being comforted by a lady with short blonde hair and glasses, who was talking to her in English, and a young blond doctor who also had glasses and would presumably be giving Conan a check-up.

Saguru sat down across from Akako, who was staring at the dark-haired woman with knitted brows. “Conan-kun’s certainly popular,” he commented, looking around at the crowd and waving to Mori.

A worried-looking waitress wandered over. “I wonder when he’s getting back...” she said absentmindedly. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Tea, please,” Saguru said politely. “Is everyone here waiting for Conan-kun?”

“Well, we’ve all been so worried about him,” the waitress said, noting down his order. “I know him pretty well, too. Takes the strongest coffee I’ve ever seen a kid drink when Ran-chan’s not around to stop him. Is it true that he has amnesia? Oh, I need to get your tea!” She scurried off.

“I heard that he’d been found, but I didn’t hear about amnesia,” Saguru said in surprise.

Akako nodded testily. “Complete amnesia, I understand,” she said. “I suppose that’s part of why so many people have shown up—they have to reintroduce themselves. But...” She resumed her confused watching of the dark-haired woman.

“So who is that that you’re glaring at?” he asked, watching the woman dab at her eyes as the woman patted her hand and the doctor advised her to breathe.

“She says she’s Edogawa Fumiyo,” Akako said, “Conan-kun’s mother. But how...?” She descended back into evil-eyed silence. Saguru glanced over the woman and shrugged.

“Here you go, sorry about that,” the waitress, setting down the cup.

“Thank you,” Saguru said politely, glancing out of the window. A red mini turned into the street, followed by a motorcycle with a rider and a passenger.

“There they are!” Mori said, getting to his feet, evidently recognizing the car. “What’s that Hattori brat doing here?”

One of the little girls, the dark-haired one, gave a half-sob and tore out of the door, followed by the other three and the old man, beaten out only by Edogawa Fumiyo. Saguru stayed by the window for a moment, watching as Ran helped Conan out of the back seat of the car, only for his mother to dive on him with a sob. The child looked frightened for a moment, until the woman pulled back, apparently explaining who she was. Saguru got up as the waitress rushed out of the door, hanging back with the blonde woman in glasses and Akako.

“Hajimemashite,” Conan was saying to the kids. “Sorry, I don’t know who you are either...”

“We’re your friends!” the dark-haired girl sniffed. “All right then, we’ll just reintroduce ourselves! I’m Yoshida Ayumi!”

“I’m Tsuburaya Mitsuhiko,” the lanky boy with freckles explained.

“I’m Kojima Genta!” The fat boy proclaimed.

“Haibara Ai,” the blonde girl said quietly. She was a little pale.

Conan looked over them all. “Nice to meet you all,” he said. Then he pointed at something on Genta’s chest. “What’s that badge?”

“It means I’m a member of the Shonen tantei-Dan!” Genta said proudly.

“We’re all members too!” Ayumi said, tapping her own badge, as did Mitsuhiko and Ai.

“You’re all detectives?” Conan said in some awe.

“So are you!” Ayumi said. “You’re in the Shonen Tantei-Dan too!”

“ _I’m_ a detective?” Conan said, sounding surprised but happy.

“And a really good one,” The lady cop said with a friendly smile. “I’m a police officer, Sato Miwako. We’ve met a lot on cases. This is Megure-Keibu, Takagi Wataru-keiji, and Shiratori Ninzaburo-keibu—they’re all police officers too.”

“Hajimemashite,” Conan said, nodding to each of the officers in turn.

“Are you keeping track of everyone?” Ran asked worriedly. “There’s a lot of people here to greet you... Let us know if you feel overwhelmed, okay?”

“I’m okay, Ran-neechan!” Conan said, smiling probably only for her benefit since he still looked slightly apprehensive—not surprising, Saguru figured, since it was clear that the boy had full-on amnesia and was therefore being swooped upon by a large number of strangers...

“I’m your elementary school teacher,” the lady with the short dark hair and glasses said kindly, leaning down a little to the children’s level. “Call me Kobayashi-sensei. School’s gone back already, but you don’t have to come back until you feel ready and comfortable, okay? I’ll make you some notes of what we learn in the meantime so that you don’t get left behind, all right?”

“Thank you, sensei,” Conan said politely.

“How about we go back inside?” Mori grumbled, shoving his hands into his coats pockets. Everyone started drifting back into the cafe. The blonde girl was chattering to Ran and the girl who had been riding on the back of the motorbike. Conan stared up at Mori with interest and a little apprehension.

“Who are you, ojisan?” he asked curiously.

“This is my Otou-san, Mori Kogoro,” Ran said as Fumiyo took her son’s hand and towed him into the warm. “Remember? I told you about him?”

“Oh, you’re a Meitantei, Ran-neechan said!” Conan said happily. Then he frowned. “But Obasan said that you’re just a clever baka...”

“Baka?” Kogoro growled at the woman who had been driving the red mini, who stalked past with her nose in the air. Ran looked from one to the other with a longsuffering sigh. “Clever?” he muttered to himself once they were out of earshot.

“I’ll get you an iced coffee, Conan-kun,” the waitress said with a smile. “That’s your favourite.”

“Okay!” Conan said with a nod. Hattori and his girlfriend sat down at the only seats available in the now heavily crowded cafe, which were unfortunately at the table where Saguru sat across from Akako. The woman with short blonde hair was introducing herself as Jodie-sensei, Ran’s English teacher who’d become good friends with Ran and Conan.

“Ya here ta see the kid?” Hattori asked, pulling off his motorcycle helmet and rubbing his head. His girlfriend was also stretching uncomfortably. “ _Damn_ , that was a long bike ride...”

“I wanted confirmation that he was alive, and of course to reintroduce myself—come to that, why have _you_ been here all day, Koizumi-san?” Saguru asked. “He barely knew you, and frankly I think he found you somewhat frightening...”

“Blank,” Akako muttered, barely listening to him. “What is the key...?” Then she seemed to jerk back to a normal person’s reality and gave a beautiful smile to the two Osakans. “My apologies, I haven’t yet introduced myself, how rude,” she said as Hattori just looked nonplussed and the girl surreptitiously watched him for a reaction to Akako. “My name is Koizumi Akako. I’m a classmate of Hakuba-kun’s. Who are you?”

“I’m Toyama Kazuha,” the girl said. “Hajimemashite.”

“Hattori Heiji,” Hattori said. “So are ya in the same class as Kuroba an’ the Nakamori girl too?”

“Oh, I know Kuroba-kun and Aoko-chan very well,” Akako purred. “I have to admit that I have only met Conan-kun twice, but I was so worried about the poor thing.” The doctor was now talking to Conan, and sometimes talking over his head to his mother, presumably discussing hospital visits. Ran was smiling at Conan but she was very pale still, and Kazuha got up and went over to her.

Hattori watched her go, then lowered his voice and muttered, “I gotta talk to ya about a few things.” He stood up, jerking his head to indicate that Saguru should follow. He did so, presuming that it was about Kuroba—after all, Kid had supposedly appeared to Hattori to inform him that Conan-kun was in the prefecture.

“Is this about Kuroba?” he asked neutrally once they were out in the street, which due to the freezing cold and the iced-over pavements was completely deserted.

“Sorta,” Hattori said. “It’s pretty much confirmed that he ain’t the kidnapper, by the way. I kinda know who it is, too.”

“Vermouth, right?”

Saguru started as Jodie-sensei stepped out of the cafe and into the conversation.

“Cool it, Hakuba,” Hattori said as Saguru narrowed his eyes. “Meet Jodie Starling, FBI. She’s investigatin’ the people who’re set on Kid’s life, which I hear yer investigatin’ too... an’ they’re the people who kidnapped the kiddo.”

“I see,” Saguru said, calming down. “So it was one of their operatives who kidnapped Conan-kun? Makes sense,” he added thoughtfully. “I overheard a conversation between Kudo-sensei and Conan-kun the night before he vanished. It sounded like he was involved in something dangerous... the same something that threatens Kuroba.”

“Figgers,” Heiji sighed. “There anybody these guys _ain’t_ screwed over?”

“Unlikely,” Jodie snorted. “They’ve been around since before I was born and they have operatives in a number of countries—we don’t know how many yet. We’re only focusing our operations in Japan because we have indications that they’re planning something big here. I don’t know how it’s connected to Kid, though... or **Cool Kid**. But I think he was on to something big.”

“Ya could say that,” Heiji muttered cryptically.

“You know what it was?” Saguru said sharply. “What could have happened to Conan-kun?”

“Kudo knows,” Hattori said unhelpfully. “An’ it’s why he had to disappear.”

“Okay, I _really_ think I have to talk to this guy now,” Jodie fumed. “And we need to protect Conan-kun, if she comes back for him—”

“She will not. She has completed her objective.”

Hattori and Jodie jumped a mile. Saguru, who was used to it, glared at Akako and said, “Koizumi-san, please try not to be a walking heart attack generator. In any case—”

“What am I babbling about, I know,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “I am saying that his memory loss was not an unfortunate by-product of whatever she did to him. It was the intention.”

“You’re saying V—the kidnapper _deliberately_ wiped his memory?” Jodie said. She sounded livid.

“How th’ hell do ya do _that_?” Hattori said in surprise.

“I cannot say,” Akako said, looking suddenly annoyed. “When I reintroduced myself, I tried to remove the block on his mind. But I could not. It is not a block projected by his own mind, but nor is there any apparent physical or magical cause...”

“Come again?” Jodie said in confusion. “Who are you, anyway?”

“She’s with him,” Hattori said, jerking his thumb at Saguru, and still looking rather shaken by Akako.

“She’s in my _class_ ,” Saguru said. “And, as it happens, Kuroba’s.”

“I am saying that the doctor is correct to say that the reason for his amnesia is not physical,” Akako continued, “but he is wrong to surmise that it is psychological. I feel that there is something vital in his memories...” she frowned. “But then, why not simply kill him? It would be so much simpler...”

“Good question,” Jodie grumbled. “ _She’s_ not one to spare children...”

“Wait, so you know precisely who the kidnapper is?” Saguru interjected.

“I thought the police all thought it was Kid,” Jodie said.

“Some do, some are sceptical, and that’s not an answer,” Saguru replied. “You mentioned ‘Vermouth’, and I’m presuming that you weren’t trying to mix a cocktail when you did...”

“We do,” Hattori said. “Listen, is it true yer investigatin’ the Org ‘cause a’ their involvement with Kid—an’ more importantly, tryin’ ta find rats in the Tokyo Met?”

“Indeed,” Saguru said. “Kudo-sensei informed me that you were doing the same in Osaka. Knowing what to look for would be useful.”

“Ah, _you’re_ the kid James mentioned who was looking for what we knew on the Organization’s involvement in the police?” Jodie said, snapping her fingers and pointing at Saguru.

“It seems rather a number of lonely travellers have looked up from the road to find themselves in the crowd,” Akako said shrewdly. “So perhaps it would be better to travel together and share provisions than to crawl on alone.”

“Yeah... I think we need to talk,” Jodie said, glancing over the three teens. “I wish I could talk to Kudo-kun and his father as well...”

“Kudo, ya ain’t gonna get yer hands on,” Hattori said, pulling out his mobile, “but I do know someone I need ta talk ta...”

“I don’t think Kudo-sensei’s here, though,” Akako commented. “I believe I heard Mori-tantei saying that he and his wife had already returned to America...”

“Huh?” Hattori said, then glanced into the cafe. After a moment, some sort of comprehension seemed to dawn. “Oh, yeah... guess they woulda been here ta see the kid if they were here... Kudo’s ofukuro’s pretty attached to the kid...” However, Saguru got the impression that there was something more to Hattori’s thoughts. He resolved to find out just what Hattori was hiding one day, but for now, he had other priorities.

“Oi, Kazuha,” Hattori called into the shop, “I gotta talk ta Hakuba about somethin’.”

“Don’t take long, I didn’t bring an overnight bag!” Kazuha called back.

“Oh, I’ll lend you what you need,” Ran replied as Hattori shut the door again.

“Are you going to follow us again?” Saguru asked Akako.

She looked thoughtful. “I think I shall,” she said. “No matter how much you detectives like to speak in doublespeak, you’re still clearer than Lucifer.”

“Do _not_ ask,” Saguru said to Hattori and Jodie.

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“I’m coming, i’m coming...” Aoko muttered as she ran through the apartment, trying to find where her father had left the handset. Really, though, she was relieved to escape from her homework. Her schoolwork was suffering through her worry for Kaito. She wondered if he knew about his house burning down, if he was doing all right...

“Moshi moshi?” she said, finally finding it down a sofa cushion.

“ _Aoko! What’s up?_ ”

“K-Kaito?” she said in surprise, almost dropping the phone.

“ _No, it’s Kamen Yaiba! Of course it’s me. How’re you doing?_ ”

“A-all right,” Aoko stammered in surprise. “How are you doing?”

“ _Better, I guess... magic 24 hours a day, what could be better?_ ” he still sounded awfully tired, though. “ _Worried about Kaa-san, of course. By the way, I heard on the news that a house in my neighbourhood burned down. Do you know what happened?_ ”

“Umm, actually...” Aoko said nervously. “It was _your_ house...”

“ _What? Are you kiddin’ me?_ ”

“I’m sorry,” Aoko said. “I was wondering if you knew.... there’s not much left.”

“ _Shit... guess it’s lucky I decided to join this tour... otherwise I coulda been fried! But seriously, nothing?_ ”

“The house collapsed,” Aoko said, sniffling as he talked so cheerfully. “There’s a few cassettes, bits of books, things like that... Otou-san’s got it all stored at the fire station...”

“ _Aw, cheer up, Aoko. That really,_ really _sucks, but... hey, at least nobody got hurt, right? Again. It’s just stuff. I can always bunk down at the Blue Parrot or something when I get back..._ ”

“Kaito, are you all right?” Aoko asked. “I’ve just been... I mean, a lot’s happened to you lately. Are you really all right?”

“ _Aoko... I’m... I’m fine,_ ” he insisted, though she got the impression that he was trying to convince himself as much as her. “ _I mean, it could’ve been so much worse, right? Kaa-san or I could’ve been killed by the cars or in the fire... It could’ve been worse. When I remember that, what happened doesn’t seem so bad._ ”

“Yeah...” Aoko sniffed, “But... It _should_ be so much better,” she said vehemently. “I want it to be better... I mean...” she blushed slightly, though he wasn’t there to see.

“ _Th... thanks,_ ” he said, a little quietly. “ _Well... I just wanted to check in, but we’ve gotta leave soon for the show..._ ”

“Hey...” Aoko said. “Can you call... a little more often? I was really worried about you, I was starting to think something had happened, and...” _... I miss you._

“ _... Sure. But don’t worry. What’s the worst that can happen_ now? _I’m sure I’m due some good karma now, right?_ ”

Aoko laughed. “Okay. Be careful.”

“ _Sure. I’m not away for long anyway—I’ll be back before you know it. Later._ ”

Then he hung up with a _click,_ and Aoko was left alone and waiting.


	46. A World Of Strangers

“Don’t cry, Ayumi-chan,” Mitsuhiko said consolingly. “He’s not hurt or anything...”

“I know,” Ayumi sniffled. “But... He didn’t know any of us!”

“Of course he didn’t, he’s got _amnesia_ ,” Genta grumbled. “Still, Ran-neechan got better after a couple of weeks, right? So he’ll been fine soon enough.”

“I know...” Ayumi sniffled. “But...”

“We’ll just look after him until then,” Ai said, hugging her friend around the shoulders. “I’m sure he’ll be back to normal in no time. I have faith in Edogawa-kun.”

“Yeah,” Ayumi sniffled, managing to smile. “Me too. He’s strong! He’ll be alright, I’m sure!”

“Uh... yeah,” Mitsuhiko agreed, visibly jealous but also not wanting to contradict Ayumi. “We’re going this way... see you tomorrow, Haibara-san!”

“Bye, Ai-chan!” Ayumi sniffed, hugging Ai before following the boys away.

“See you,” Ai called after them, before making her solitary way back to Agasa-Hakase’s.

She shivered, though it was nothing to do with the cold. The past few days, she’d walked home alone and only just realized that she hadn’t before. Kudo had always walked her to Agasa’s and then continued on the Mori Detective Agency. She felt frightened, even though she only walked alone for five minutes, unprotected, exposed. Still, without Kudo with her, she felt completely unprotected, like Gin or Vermouth would swoop out of the shadows any second.

 _I had no idea how safe he made me,_ she thought with a gentle smile. _How much he was protecting me... Now... Now he’s..._

She remembered the complete blankness in his expression as they had reintroduced themselves, his complete lack of recognition. His memory was well and truly gone. He had seemed a little frightened and overwhelmed by the number of people introducing themselves...

... But it was just a little fear, just a bit of incomprehension. There was no anger, no true fear, none of the deep sadness that had always been there, even when he was putting on his “kiddy” act in full force. The pain, the longing... had it been wiped from his mind with the memories? Was he freed?

 _Hell of a choice, isn’t it?_ she thought. _To bring back his memories—to bring back Kudo Shinichi—also means the return of the pain and fear, the danger from the Organization... Leave him as is, let him be Edogawa Conan, and all of that will disappear. He’ll be happy... be free..._

She shook herself. No, even if it was to protect him, Kudo wouldn’t want to be stuck as Edogawa Conan forever.  Didn’t she owe it to him to help him find the greatest truth... who he was?

_Right now...I’m scared, but... I promised I’d be brave. I wouldn’t run away. Kudo-kun’s always protected me, so maybe... I owe it to him to protect him... no matter what that entails._

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“I’ll drop you off, Kobayashi-san...”

“It’s kinda cute that he has a crush on the kids’ teacher,” Sato commented happily, watching Shiratori open his car for the young lady.

“Y-yeah,” Wataru agreed, inwardly just relieved that Shiratori would stop making life difficult for him. _Without him in the way, maybe I can build up the courage to tell Sato-san..._ “It’s terrible about Conan-kun, though. He really didn’t recognize anybody. He seemed a little frightened...”

“What could _do_ that to him?” Sato burst out, angrily slamming her car door closed as she sat down in the driver’s seat and gestured to Wataru to sit in the passenger’s seat. “That’s the bravest, smartest kid I’ve ever seen! That _anybody’s_ ever seen!”

“Tell me about it,” Wataru sighed, clicking on his seatbelt. “I keep thinking about the bomber case...” he trailed off, suddenly remembering that the case held nothing but painful memories for her.

There was an uncomfortable silence which seemed to Wataru to go on for hours. Then she nodded tersely and said, “you and Conan-kun... were trapped in a lift with a bomb, weren’t you? Didn’t the bomb disposal team help Conan-kun to defuse the bomb halfway through the clue, though?”

“S-sorta...” Wataru said nervously. “They helped him defuse the bomb, I think... But sometimes, it seemed like he wasn’t really listening to them, like he was fine on his own. He recognized the type of bomb on his own and everything. But where would he learn stuff like that?”

“He’s definitely not your normal child, that’s for sure,” Sato said. “He knows so many things that _no_ little kid knows... and he’s so sharp, as well. I get the feeling that he’s a better detective than Mori-san. Besides, when the situation’s serious, he seems more like a little adult than a kid... like when he’s being a little kid, it’s just acting.” Something popped up in Wataru’s mind, a strange moment driven out of his mind by subsequent shock and fear and desperation and an almost-kiss...

“In the elevator,” he said slowly, staring out of the window at the twilight of Tokyo, “It was _him_ that decided not to disassemble the bomb... he wanted to wait for the clue because he’d worked out that it was high schools and that, somewhere in one of those schools, there might be ‘the someone that I want to protect most in this world’...”

“What?” Sato said in surprise. “Who did he mean? Did he mean Ran-chan? After all, I think it was her school in the end, and he does seem pretty attached to her...”

“M-maybe,” Wataru agreed, thinking of how Conan had insisted on returning to the bomb-ridden music hall where Mori Ran was... “But it’s such a mature statement for such a little kid. It doesn’t make it sound like just a kid’s attachment to his neechan... whether it was Ran-kun or someone else, he was willing to _die_ for her.”

“True...” Sato said with a frown.

“And more than that...”Wataru swallowed heavily. “Before I’d realized what I was saying, I’d asked him... ‘Who _are_ you?’ and do you know what he said?” Sato glanced over at him curiously. “He said, ‘If you really want to know, I’ll tell you... In the Afterlife’...”

They both fell silent as Wataru trailed off. Finally, Sato spoke.

“Okay, one, that is just not a kid’s statement, no matter how creepily mature they are,” She said. “Two... you realize that he was implying that who he is... isn’t Edogawa Conan.”

“Yeah,” Wataru said. “I wondered about that... but what does it mean? It means he’s got a past, for one thing. But we met his mother today and she seemed normal...”

“Unless she wasn’t his mother,” Sato said. “If he’s got a past to hide, if he’s changed his name or whatever... he would still have needed new papers to get a place in school and such, right? So at least one other person would have to be in on it. Or maybe an organization... like the FBI witness protection program.”

“You think he’s on that?” Wataru said in surprise. “That… would explain a lot. But would that have something to do with the kidnapping? I heard that the Kaitou Kid was the prime suspect for that one, which is kinda weird since he’s non-violent...”

“Actually, I heard differently from an officer in the special unit,” Sato said.

Wataru sighed. _Oh yeah... Shiratori may be leaving the picture, but there’s still every straight male in the entire Tokyo Met to contend with..._

“Did you hear that someone broke into the museum and shot at Kid on the heist?” Sato continued. Wataru nodded. “Well, it’s not a one-off. He’s been shot at on heists before... all the way back to before he disappeared ten years ago. And they think it’s the same people, who’ve never been caught or even traced. There’s a suspicion that Conan-kun may have been kidnapped by then... if he was caught in a crossfire between them and the Kid...”

“I never heard about that,” Wataru said in surprise. “So... these people who are trying to kill the Kaitou Kid and might have kidnapped Conan-kun... are you saying that they’re connected to Conan-kun’s past?”

“I don’t know,” Sato said sternly, “but as long as nobody even knows what his past _is_... he’s in danger.”

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Yukiko struggled to control herself as she touched up her mask in the Mori’s bathroom mirror. Edogawa Fumiyo had been pressured into sleeping over at the Mori’s tonight, on a futon in Ran’s room; she would have to get up before Ran to fix her mask, and wondered if she should even dare sleep in it at all. She didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, anyway. When Shinichi had turned up, so blank and confused... what hadn’t hurt was that he hadn’t recognized him (she was in _disguise_ ), but the knowledge that even if she took the mask off, he still wouldn’t recognize her. It broke her heart all over again, like the day they’d come home to an empty and dusty house.

 _Damn them,_ she thought, hands fisting on the sink. _First they shrink him, then they take his memories... how much more will they take? How long will they keep killing him by instalments? Why..._ she wiped her eyes as more tears surfaced, then glanced in the mirror to ensure that her mask wasn’t smudged. _Why does he have to go through this? Shin-chan..._ her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knocking on the bathroom door.

“Fumiyo-san? Are you all right?” Ran’s voice came. “You’ve been in there a while...”

“Sorry, Ran-san,” she said in Edogawa Fumiyo’s voice, which was modelled, like the face, on an old high-school teacher of hers of whom she had been fond. She opened the door, grateful at least that she didn’t have to hide her tears. “I’m just...” she dabbed carefully at her eyes with a handkerchief. “It’s so terrible... I’m so happy that he’s alive and safe, but he just doesn’t _know_ anyone... it’s like he’s still so far away...”

“I know,” Ran said softly. Her voice was steady, but Yukiko knew Ran as well as Shinichi. She knew the girl was trying not to cry. _Oh, Ran-chan... you’ve lost Shinichi, and I’m sorry but he’s not calling any time soon... and now you don’t have Conan either... I’m so sorry..._

On an impulse, she reached out and hugged Ran, making the girl squeak in surprise—while the move was characteristic of Kudo Yukiko, it was a little surprising in Edogawa Fumiyo. “F-Fumiyo-san?”

“Sorry, Ran-san,” she said again. “Just... thank you so much for taking care of Conan-chan all this time. You’ve been a much better mother to him than I have...” she sniffed, her troubles now being poured out to Ran as well in slightly edited form. “I just feel so guilty about leaving him behind. We never meant to leave him for long, you know... we were going to get these new jobs and finally have our own house and have a wonderful new life for him but he... he’s so much happier here in Japan. And now I just don’t know what to do, because Soichiro and I are doing so well in America, but it means we can’t be with him... and with the recession and all, if we tried to come back we’d just be pulling him into poverty... I just want what’s best for him, Ran-san. It just breaks my heart to know that it means being with you rather than me...” _Still got it, able to make a story like_ that _up on the fly..._

“Oh, Fumiyo-san,” Ran said tearfully. “You’re not a bad mother. I’m sure Conan-kun understands. If he doesn’t now, when he’s a little older... he’ll forgive you, I’m sure. I’m happy to take care of him. He’s been so much of a support...” Ran trailed off, and Yukiko’s eyes welled up again at her words.

 _“Kaa-san... no matter what you wanted, in the end you put my choices and what_ I _wanted first... I don’t resent you or anything, all right?_ ”

“Thank you, Ran-san,” she sniffled quietly, walking away to compose herself before she went to say goodnight to “Conan”.

 _Shin-chan... please, please remember her... Maybe I don’t deserve you back, but... she doesn’t deserve any more pain. Please, please stop hurting her... please.._.

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Ginzo shook the bottle a couple of times before decanting a little onto a cloth. He knew most of the local museum and art gallery owners pretty well by now, and one of them had given him a bottle of this stuff, which apparently shifted dirt pretty well while having no effect whatsoever on paint. He took a gamble and started to clean one side of the painting. He wiped the ash away, smiling sadly as his best friend smiled back up at him. He took care to clean every hint of ash from the always immaculate white suit and hat, the snowy doves, all the time dreading what would happen when he cleaned the other side. Was it because he feared that he’d be wrong, and then feel terrible for suspecting Toichi... or that he’d be right?

Eventually, however, there was simply no more ash or grime left. The painting was sparkling. He stuck his head out of his bedroom door, but Aoko’s door was closed and there was no light from under it- she must already be asleep. Until he knew what was going on... she worried about that idiot Kaito enough as it was without _this_. Then he closed the door, turned over the painting and set to work. As he worked from the top, first a crescent moon became visible, then a flying cape, then a top hat...

He expected to feel at least a little shocked or angry or _something_ , but all he felt was saddened. So it was true. His closest friend had lied to him—at the cost of his life. And now, his son was doing the same thing to Ginzo’s daughter. _History repeating itself_. He watched the painting slowly unveil itself from under the cloth. So there it was—Kuroba Toichi, the Kaitou Kid, and Kuroba Kaito almost certainly the new one. Case Closed. Right?

Ginzo was committed to the law, but even stronger was his sense of justice. He knew Toichi and Kaito, knew that there was something bigger behind this. Some bigger crime that had claimed Toichi’s life, and nearly Chikage and Kaito’s. He couldn’t let that crime go unsolved, even if he wasn’t allowed to investigate it. And dammit, why not? Why wouldn’t his superiors want this investigated? Why would they get in the way if it meant the crime going unsolved? Why? Why would they want these mysterious snipers and whoever was behind them to go free, unless...

Unless...

Ginzo had been a devoted police officer for over twenty years, and the idea was repellent to him, but once it was in his mind it wouldn’t leave. His superiors wouldn’t hide criminals... unless they had something to hide. And if that was the case...

 _Dammit,_ he thought, flipping the painting back over so that it was Kuroba Toichi smiling comfortingly at him rather than the predatory smirk of the Kid. _How can I get any arrests in if the people I’m arresting have friends in high places? If the people I have to arrest are my_ superiors? _All that would get me... is an ‘accident’ like Toichi-kun’s. Dammit, I just wish he’d_ told _me... then maybe I could have protected him... and Kaito-kun and Aoko..._ he looked down at the painting. _Well... you’re beyond complaints. Hell knows where Kaito-kun is now, but I’m betting it’s not travelling with any other magicians... Chikage-kun’s beyond questions, too... who could I tell? Who could I ask?_

_“If you want to talk about what to do about it, I’m sure you know where to find me. Until then... to blatantly plagiarize my son, Shinjitsu Wa Itsumo Hitotsu, Ginzo-kun. You’ll have to face it sooner or later, so it’s best to do it sooner... before you’re too late.”_

_Kudo-kun,_ he thought. _How much... do_ you _know?_ he sighed in exasperation. Unfortunately, the writer and his wife had apparently already returned to America, and his quick mental calculation of the time difference meant that it was still _very_ early in the morning in LA.

 _Dammit, I don’t know if I can take this case alone,_ he thought, pressing his face into his hands, _but I will if I have to..._


	47. Strike

_“So how did it go? I assume you managed successfully?_ ”

“You betcher tight ass,” Heiji said, ignoring Hakuba’s snort of annoyance at the insult on the fly. “We got all five. They ain’t highly ranked, but it’s enough ta cripple their movements here. Th’ main worry’s keeping ‘em under tight security so nobody silences ‘em. What about you?”

“ _The information you gave me was... useful. I’ve located quite a number. It’s infuriating how many there are... and how high they go._ ”

“Tell me about it,” Heiji muttered. “Hey, what about outside the cops?”

“ _A couple of suspect businesses and individuals... I’ve cross-referenced the cases with Kid heists. A particularly odd one was the house where the Blue Birthday was found..._ ”

“The whatsit?” Heiji asked, leaning back from his desk. Yesterday, he and Kazuha had returned to Tokyo, and early this morning the moles in the Osaka Police had been arrested. When Heiji’s father had laid out all of the evidence that Heiji had found, one had cracked and brought the rest down like a line of dominoes. Unfortunately, they were unable to give any remotely useful information about their employer, although sheer terror had meant that it had taken several hours of interrogation to get what they had.

“ _Blue Birthday. A sapphire he stole... a little over a year ago. That was a strange heist... it’s the first one where I’ve found any sniper activity against Kuroba Kaito. A tracker was put in the sapphire, and was traced to a traditional-style manor... but there was nobody there, not even Kid. After several hours of searching, they found an underground passage. It came out in an abandoned warehouse... whoever had used it was long gone. They assumed it was Kid that left via the passage, but he’s not known for using such obvious methods of escape... not when he’s off-camera, anyway. The house was apparently owned by someone who never lived there, he’s just a property shark. Incidentally, he apparently owns several of the properties that until recently housed the various companies that you’ve been investigating..._ ”

“Can’t hide it forever,” Heiji said triumphantly. “So... how’s the kiddo doin’? You seen ‘im?”

“ _Not really. I understand he’s been home the past few days, spending time with his mother, Mori-san, Agasa-Hakase, familiar people, you know. I believe he’ll return to school soon, however. No sign of his memory returning, however._ ”

“I see,” Heiji sighed. _Kudo... what’s gonna happen to ‘im? How’s ‘e gonna get ‘is memory back when everyone’s givin’ him the wrong info?_ That was his biggest worry; there seemed to be no believable way to explain to Kudo who he was, but the result was that either his memory would never return, or when it did it would confuse and frighten him. It wouldn’t take his detective’s brain long to realize that many of his memories were impossible for any grade-school student to have...  “We ain’t got no leads here, unfortunately. No sign a’ Kid or the kidnapper, or even where the kid was held...”

“ _Hmmm... of course, that makes it possible that both are still in Osaka, does it not?_ ”

“An’ if they are, we’ll find ‘em soon enough,” Heiji growled. “She ain’t gettin’ away...”

“ _Well, good luck with that, then. You certainly need it..._ ” Hakuba hung up before Heiji could retaliate. He just grunted at the silent mobile instead.

His talk with Jodie and Hakuba had been... illuminating. He’d given them the facts of his knowledge of the Organization, but he’d had to hold so much back and he worried that they could tell. What had surprised him more was how much both had figured out about Kid and the Organization. When you’re watching the world, thinking and deducing, it can be easy to forget that you’re not the only one doing it.

 _“Once Conan told us about that nurse, we knew that the boy was in danger from the Organization,” Jodie said. “A boy magician whose father had died about the same time the Kaitou Kid vanished, while the Organization was after the Kid... it’s obvious when you think about it. He’s just so good at keeping you from thinking about it._ ”

_“Nurse?” Hakuba and Heiji asked in confusion, a rare moment of unity._

_“This was kept on the quiet, but a nurse at the Haido Central was ‘found’ collapsed in the Kuroba’s room,” Jodie said quietly. “Which I’m sure has nothing to do with **Cool Kid** having been the one to find her. She had a needle full of Potassium Chloride with her.” Heiji swore. Potassium Chloride. Basically, an instant heart attack. It showed up easily in an autopsy, but only if you were looking for it... “We think she was intending to take out Kuroba Chikage first.”_

_“A heart attack in a badly maimed, comatose patient wouldn’t seem unusual,” Hakuba muttered. He looked deeply sick. “They’d probably never even look for Potassium Chloride traces...”_

_“Precisely,” Jodie replied. “So we had a look at their ‘accident’ a few days before.”_

_“Which wasn’t,” Hakuba said. “It looked like a street race, but street racers would never race in cars of the same color... besides, the cars never slowed or swerved, which they surely would have done the second they found themselves bearing down on somebody, if only for the sake of their race times. In other words... somebody attempted to finish the job. Is that why there have been FBI agents around the hospital?”_

_“You noticed them?” Jodie arched an eyebrow. “Kids in Japan... maybe **Cool Kid** isn’t as unusual as I thought. Speaking of which...” she narrowed her eyes on Heiji. “I wonder... he seems to have shared a lot of information with you, Hattori-kun... particularly about Vermouth. Do you know _ how _a mere child got involved with the Black Organization?”_

_“I overheard him talking to Kudo-sensei,” Hakuba said. “He said only that he saw something that he shouldn’t... whatever it is that Kudo Shinichi had to go into hiding for.”_

_“Uh, yeah...” Heiji said with a gulp. Hakuba had_ no _idea how close he really was... “We thought the Org didn’t know that the kid was involved at all... looks like Vermouth spilled the beans. Fer some reason, seems she didn’t back when ‘e stopped her killin’ that Haibara kid...”_

 _“I don’t know about that,” Jodie said. “According to Kir, Vermouth appears to be running this independently of the Organization. None of the rest know anything about Edogawa Conan. Which begs the question—what is_ she _up to? And what does it have to do with Edogawa Conan?” She and Hakuba both stared at Heiji._

 _“Oi, I swear I dunno,” Heiji said. “The kiddo’s almost as bad as Kid as far as bein’ a walkin’ enigma goes—matter of fact, now we know_ who _Kid is an’ got a probable motive fer goin’ after the Org...”_

 _“All right, then I want a little more information on who this Organization is and who, in particular, ‘Vermouth’ is,” Hakuba snapped. “Kid is_ my _case, and.... he’s a friend. I want this case solved before he gets himself killed.”_

Heiji jerked out of his thought as his mobile rang. He picked it up cautiously—it said “unknown number.”

“Hattori,” he said as he brought the phone to his ear.

“ _There’s one more._ ”

“What?” he said in confusion at the vaguely familiar voice.

“ _There is one more Raven in Osaka, nesting in the police._ ”

“What the—who is this?”

“ _Go to the Kitsune Shrine in the woods to the north.”_

Then there was only silence as they hung up.

 _What th—_ Heiji wondered. Then the house phone rang. He distantly heard his father answering it. Then he heard some rather more distinctive loud swearing.

“What happened?” he yelled, running downstairs.

“They’re all dead,” his father growled. “Some kind of poisonous gas in their cells, by the time the guards smelled anything it was too late—we _missed_ one, dammit.”

“ _There’s one more_...”

“What the hell?” Heiji said. “Who _was_ that?” Ignoring his father’s questions, he tried to redial the number. All he got was a recorded message telling him that the number could not be reached. “Someone just called,” he said. “Can’t place the voice. They said we missed one...”

“You don’t know who?” Heizo said sharply.

“Dunno, but I bet I could recognize th’ voice again if I...” he sighed as he remembered where those smooth tones were familiar from. “No I won’t. It was Kid, dammit. He’s still in Osaka...”

“Did he say who?” Heizo asked. “And could you reach the number?”

“Unreachable, prob’ly a phone booth or somethin’,” Heiji sighed. “He said it’s a cop, didn’t say who. An’ also... somethin’ about a shrine in th’ woods ta the north. A Kitsune shrine. What’s that about?”

“Couldn’t say. There’s several small shrines in that forest...” Heizo glanced at the clock. “I’ll investigate tomorrow. _You_ ,” he added, as Heiji opened his mouth, “are going to school tomorrow. No excuses, and don’t you _dare_ sneak out to investigate on your own. I really mean it this time. Whoever took that child did _something_ to him, and if they’re willing to damage a child like that then they’re unlikely to pull any punches on _you_ if you stick your nose in too far. You’re suspicious as it is. I will take over this investigation before you bring yourself to any harm.”

“I ain’t droppin’ my case, Oyaji,” Heiji said sullenly.

“I didn’t expect you to,” Heizo said. “I just... listen, whatever this case is, it’s caused one boy your age to vanish and has taken a child’s memory. I want you to be careful and work with me on this. All right? I don’t want you to be next.”

Heiji thought of Kudo, the blank look in his eyes...

“... Fine.”

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Ran glanced over at Conan as the boy yawned hugely. He was reading over some of his friend’s notebooks, since he was going back to school tomorrow, but seemed bored. He was flicking through them rapidly, and his gaze kept straying to Mitsuhiko’s scrapbook of articles about cases that the Shonen Tantei-Dan had solved.

 _He’s a bright boy, he’ll catch up in no time..._ she thought. She blinked. For a moment, the bored boy leaning over his homework was...

“ _See, Barou? It’s not_ that _hard!_ ”

“ _I got it! Thanks, Shinichi. I’ll finish it on my own._ ”

She blinked again, and it was Conan, not Shinichi, flicking through maths questions.

 _Shinichi used to get so bored by homework, too,_ she thought with a little smile, _So bored that he didn’t even_ do _it half the time... His face was just like Conan’s..._ she felt a tight knot form in her stomach at the thought of Shinichi. Her worry about Conan had consumed her every thought for over a week, but when they’d waved off Conan’s mother that morning—she’d had to go back to America for a time to apply for more leave, or else she’d be fired, and though she’d tearfully insisted that she’d be back as soon as possible, Conan hadn’t seemed too upset about her leaving, perhaps simply because he knew she’d be back soon—she’d heard a call coming in to the office, and somehow she’d thought it would be Shinichi. It had been a telemarketer, as it happened, but when she’d hung up the phone she’d realized that Shinichi hadn’t called since before Conan had been abducted. He’d gone longer without calling her before, yeah, but since the date he’d at least _texted_ every couple of days. The sudden, prolonged silence... it worried her. And the timing...

She shook herself mentally. _There you go again,_ she thought. _Conan doesn’t need to be burdened with your weird suspicions just now. Besides, one way or another..._ she looked sadly at the little boy who had finally given in and was avidly reading an article about some Italian burglars. _How would he know?_

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Conan was soon absorbed in the cases, wondering if any would trigger any memory. He’d given up on the notes. He knew it all already—and more. He’d been mentally solving the problems that Ayumi had written into her jotter, when he’d paused at the end of one and realized that it was a high-school level sampler problem that she hadn’t answered. And he had. Correctly. At that point, he’d tossed the notebook aside and started reading cases.

 _Okay, everyone says I’m bright, but I’m sure I shouldn’t be able to do those questions..._ he thought, shaken. _But that was_ easy _. What’s going on? No-one mentioned that I was any kind of super-genius or anything..._ It was weird, like the thing with his glasses. He’d continued to wear them out of habit, but he had perfect vision without them. They didn’t have proper lenses in them, just a sort of fake glass. It weirded him out, and he hadn’t been able to bring himself to ask anyone about it.

Or his mother. He still couldn’t remember her at all; when she’d left this morning, he hadn’t felt upset, worried, nothing. Perhaps it was because he’d been living with the Mori family for two years, but he should feel _something_ for his own mother, shouldn’t he? But she felt no different to him than Ran’s mother did… who still hadn’t left; Kogoro, in what struck Conan as an odd but sweet fit of gentlemanliness, was bunking on the couch while she slept in the same room as Conan. Her defence was that Conan and Ran needed extra support that she didn’t trust Kogoro to give.

That Ran needed support upset Conan. He hated the thought that she would be worried about him, hated the thought that she might be upset because of him; he wanted her to smile. That thought worried him too. She was his adoptive neechan, right? So why did he feel so... why did he want so badly to protect her? It permeated his every thought, even dominating his thoughts of restoring his memory; he needed to do it so that Ran wouldn’t be sad. It confused him.

“It’s getting late, Conan-kun,” Ran said brightly, acting cheerful though Conan could tell, somehow, that she was still worried. “You need to be well-rested for school tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” he drawled, getting up and closing the notebook. He saw her glance nervously at the phone again. _She keeps doing that,_ he thought. _Why? Is she waiting for someone to call?_ Somehow, it made him feel guilty.

He propped up his stool by the sink, feeling unaccountably irritated about having to do so. He met his own gaze in the mirror critically. Somehow, it still didn’t seem quite right. Again, he got the feeling that there was something _odd_ about his own face, something... _wrong..._

The thought reminded him of Haibara Ai. The blonde girl gave him the same feeling. She was different from the other kids. She was quieter, and always seemed to hang back, and he got the feeling that she was _watching_ him. Often, out of the corner of his eye, he’d see her staring at him with a calculating look, as if she was searching for something. She was just... _odd_. Everything was.

He splashed a little water on his face to wash it, then rubbed the towel over his eyes to dry himself. As he pulled the towel away from his eyes, he looked up into the mirror—

He froze, but the image vanished as soon as he blinked. Then he shook himself, redonning his glasses and looking back into the mirror, into the eyes of a child—not, as he’d thought for a moment, an adult.

Still, the image from that split second remained in his brain as he got into the bed; the adult who looked so much like him—the adult’s face that looked so much more familiar than the child’s.


	48. The Learning Curve

“Oi, Takagi,” Chiba called. “There’s a call for you...”

“Sure,” Wataru said, thankful to escape the desk to answer the call. “Hello? This is Takagi.”

“ _Stop investigating the Edogawa case._ ”

“What?” Wataru said in surprise. Then he frowned. “Is that a threat?”

“ _No, it’s a warning, forgive me if it sounded menacing. But very soon, I believe, anyone getting too curious is going to go the same way as the cat, if you understand me._ ”

“What? You mean the kidnapper?” Wataru hissed.

“ _I mean the kidnapper’s important friends in the police. You want my advice, you’ll keep out of it entirely, and tell your girlfriend to get out of the Kuroba case. If you don’t want my advice, talk to Hakuba Saguru. I’m sure you’ll find mutual interests. Now, I’m afraid that the batteries on my white-noise generator are running out, so I shall take my leave before the bugs on the police lines pick up again. Sayonara._ ”

“Oi—” Wataru said, blushing involuntarily at the reference to Sato as his girlfriend, but whoever was on the other end had hung up. “Do you know where that was from, Chiba-kun?”

“The trace just said a phone booth in Osaka,” Chiba shrugged. “Can’t nail it down. What was it?”

“Umm... nothing much,” Wataru shrugged, slipping away to find Sato. She was drinking coffee with Yumi and sifting through her traffic reports.

“What’s up, Takagi-kun?” Yumi said cheerfully. Sato waved, but didn’t say anything because she was mid-gulp of coffee.

“Sato-san, can I speak to you for a moment?” he asked, glancing at Yumi. “Umm... in private?”

“Ooo,” Yumi giggled, getting up. “I’ll leave you two alone, then...” she wandered off, giving Wataru worrying looks.

“Sato-san—” Wataru began, but Sato held up a finger to her lips, stalking down the hallway where Yumi had disappeared, before sticking her head around the corner and yelling “Go, Yumi!” Wataru heard Yumi’s squeak as she fled, actually leaving them alone. Sato came back and sat down. “You were saying, Takagi-kun?”

“I got a strange call,” he said, lowering his voice as he remembered the mention of “ _The kidnapper’s important friends in the police_ ”. “It was... a warning, of sorts. It said that anyone getting involved in Conan-kun’s case... or the Kuroba case... is liable to come to a sticky end.”

“What? They’re connected?” Sato said in surprise.

Wataru quickly motioned for her to shush. “They also mentioned,” he hissed, “that Conan-kun’s kidnapper has some important friends in the police. In other words, they’re part of a bigger operation.”

Sato’s eyes instantly narrowed as she glanced around suspiciously, leaning towards him. “If it’s big,” she hissed, “We’ve got even more reason to _take it down_. They are _not_ getting away with whatever they did to Conan-kun.”

“Of course not,” Wataru agreed. “So... whoever it was... suggested that we talk to Hakuba Saguru.”

“Hakuba? Isn’t that the superintendant general’s name?” Sato said in surprise. “Wait, no, his first name’s Mamoru, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I think it’s his son or something,” Wataru said quietly. “I remember, he was all over the papers a while back for faceoffs with the Kaitou Kid, before Conan-kun got wind of him... A blond boy, a Kokosei-tantei like Hattori-kun and Kudo-kun, I think...”

“Wait, wasn’t there a blond kid who was talking to Hattori-kun the other day?” Sato remembered. “You know, when Conan-kun came back...”

“Maybe I’ll call Hattori-kun and ask,” Wataru said, pulling out his mobile.

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“Conan-kun! You’re back so soon!” Kobayashi-sensei said happily. “Now, you’re feeling all right? Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“I’m not sick, Kobayashi-sensei,” Kudo said. Ai watched him follow their teacher into the classroom. It was his third day back, and since his CAT scan at the hospital had turned up no form of head trauma, Dr Ariade had said that it would be all right for him to return to school. Ran had looked tearful for a moment as she and Sonoko split up with the five children to continue on to the high school, but the three real kids had quickly engulfed him in chatter and stories. Still, Kudo had looked slightly lost for a second when Ran walked away.

 _He’s been hovering around her all the time ever since he came back,_ Ai thought, noticing how apprehensive Kudo looked about returning to the classroom. _Does he remember her after all? Kami, he looks so_ afraid _separated from her..._

“All right, class,” Kobayashi-sensei called, clapping her hands for silence. “As you can see, Conan-kun made it back safe and sound!” The children cheered happily as Kudo walked into the classroom. He looked a little freaked out, but the Shonen Tantei-Dan quickly surrounded him, not blocking him from view but simply sticking close to him. He looked slightly more reassured, but still scared. “However, I’m afraid he has amnesia. Does anybody know what that is?”

“Ummm...” Maria said nervously. “Doesn’t it mean... you can’t remember anything? Not your name or your home or anything?”

“Correct,” Kobayashi-sensei said sadly as the whole class gasped. “So we’re all going to have to reintroduce ourselves to Conan-kun at some point, okay? _Not_ right now,” she added as everyone stood up, calling their name. “But when you get the chance, okay?”

“I’m sure I’ll get my memory back soon,” Kudo said, putting on a smile to try to wipe the sad looks that were on many of the children’s faces. “But I’m looking forward to meeting all of you!”

“Okay, can you four show him back to his seat?” Kobayashi-sensei said.

“You’re over here, Conan-kun!” Ai said, towing him down the aisle. “You’re right next to Ai-chan, and I’m across here, and then there’s Genta-kun and Mitsuhiko-kun...”

“Your notebook should still be in your desk,” Ai said as Kudo pulled his pencil case out of his bag.

“Ah! Thank you, Haibara-san,” he said, opening his desk to get the aforementioned notebook. The class quickly settled down into a normal day, though the children kept glancing at Kudo and whispering. She watched him descend into boredom out of the corner of her eye. Normally, he hid his classroom boredom, but now he didn’t know to. She wondered what he made of the ease with which he did the work. It might explain the vague confusion with which he stared at the notebook. Did he realize that his intelligence was far above that of everyone else in the room (except her, of course?).

Still, everything when fine until the silent reading period.

He was pulling out a book and read the prologue when Kobayashi-sensei took it away. “You’re in the sixth-graders’ section, Conan-kun. These books will probably be a little beyond you. Why don’t you go pick one out of the junior section with the others?"

“Sure,” Kudo said, but the look of confusion resurfaced.

 _That book has some slightly difficult kanji,_ Ai remembered as she saw Kobayashi-sensei reshelve the title. _Normal third-graders_ wouldn’t _be able to understand a lot of it... but I bet he understood every word._ He resumed looking through the books when he paused, reaching in behind a book that he’d pulled out and retrieving a torn leather wallet.

“What’s this?” he said in surprise, staring at the wallet.

“That’s the wallet the ghost left!” Ayumi said excitedly. “We decided to leave it there in case he ever came back...”

“Ghost?” he said, confused, unfolding the wallet.

“Yeah! You told us all the story once! Mitsuhiko said excitedly. “About when Ran-neechan and Shinichi-niichan met a ghost in the library and followed all of his riddles!” Kudo’s head jerked up.

“Shinichi... niichan?” he said, sounding even more surprised. Was there a trace of... recognition in his eyes? “Who’s that?”

“Ran-neechan’s _boyfriend_ ,” Ayumi giggled.

“He and Ran-neechan were friends since they were really little kids,” Mitsuhiko added. “But he’s a really famous Meitantei, and he’s been away on a case for a couple of years, so we’ve only met him the once.”

“His house is next to Agasa-Hakase’s, and it’s a _ghost_ house!” Genta proclaimed excitedly.

“Really...” Kudo said quietly, staring at the wallet with brows furrowed. He pulled out a piece of paper and read it for a moment. “Kudo Shinichi-niichan...” Suddenly, he paled rapidly, his breath seeming to freeze, staring at the paper unseeingly.

“Conan-kun?” Ayumi asked worriedly. “Conan-kun, are you all right? Conan-kun?” He didn’t seem to hear her, his hands suddenly starting to shake as he gripped the wallet and note tighter.

 _Is he having a flashback?_ Ai thought in shock. _His memories... is this a trigger? But if he’s remembering a moment from_ Kudo Shinichi’s _childhood... if he’s remembering Mori-chan as a child... something he knows that Edogawa Conan can’t possibly remember..._

“Conan? Oi, Conan!” Genta yelled loudly, right in the smaller boy’s ear. Kudo seemed to jerk out of whatever trance he’d been in, and glanced around.

“Sorry,” he said. “I thought... I might remember something, for a moment. But... it’s gone now. I’m fine. Really, I’m fine,” he repeated to Ayumi, who was hovering worriedly around him. He stuffed the note back into the wallet and the wallet back into the bookcase. “Sorry for worrying you...”

Soon, he had selected a book and was settled down, quietly staring at the page like everyone else. But Ai felt that he, like she, was not reading a word.

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Conan spoke little to his friends on the walk home, even though his quiet was visibly worrying Ran. He kept running over the moment in the library earlier. There had been _something_ , he swore, _something_ had come back in the library, but... it was gone. Whatever had been triggered by that wallet, and the two notes inside... was gone.

_To Kudo Yuusaku_

_?_

_Kaitou no. 1412_

He could make neither heads nor tails of that one, though both the name and the number seemed faintly familiar. He wondered if he was related to the Kudo Shinichi-niichan that the other kids had mentioned...

It had been the other note that had triggered something.

_Thank you!_

_1 st grade, class A_

_Mori Ran_

He’d seen Ran-neechan’s name, then wondered who she was thanking, why, and then they’d mentioned that she’d been ghost hunting with Shinichi-niichan, then...

“ _Is that so? All you did was read the beginning of the novel’s summary..._ ”

 _Who said that?_ he thought, straining his brain. _I can’t remember their face... nothing but a shadow... and that voice... and..._ but it was gone. Whatever else he had remembered was gone.

“Conan-kun? Are you all right?” Ran said worriedly. “You’ve been frowning for a while now...”

“Sorry, Ran-neechan,” he said, trying to be cheerful. He didn’t want her to worry. “I thought I remembered something earlier... but I forgot it again. Funny, huh?”

“Don’t push yourself,” Ran said. “It’ll come in time, I promise. It’ll just take the right trigger, like with my memory. Until then... don’t push yourself.”

“Okay,” he said, as they slowed in front of a bookstore. “Are we stopping here?”

“Yeah!” Genta said. “I got my pocket money, so I want to get the new Kamen Yaiba manga! I bet you’ll like Kamen Yaiba once you remember it!”

“There’s other books you like too,” Mitsuhiko added as they walked through the bookshelves. “Like... where’s the mystery section? You love detective novels!”

“Yeah! Where’s Sherlock Holmes?” Ayumi asked as they reached the mystery section, scanning over the titles.

“Yeah...” Conan agreed. He’d rapidly found mysteries fascinating. He’d loved reading all of the articles and reports about the Shonen Tantei-Dan’s cases, found the complex tricks and the unravelling of the mysteries intoxicating. That was why he’d gravitated to the Agatha Christie book, even though it was in the older children’s section. Kobayashi-sensei had insisted that it would be too hard for him, and he’d seen some complex kanji on the first page, but...

He’d understood it, every word. And just from seeing a few names, he recalled which one had done it, and how. He didn’t remember when or where he’d read the book, but clearly he had, and had understood every word. He was starting to wonder. He could do high-school level math problems and read kanji intended for sixth-graders—and probably only the exceptionally bright ones, at that. Arthur Conan-Doyle’s works, he was sure, would be even more complex. That, he knew, was not normal for an eight-year-old. But while everyone had said that he was bright, no-one had mentioned anything about being a super-genius.

And...

He paused when he spotted a familiar name. “Kudo Yuusaku?” he said, pulling a title off the shelf.

“That’s Shinichi’s father,” Ran said, noticing the book that he was holding. “He writes mystery novels. Oh, do you know who Shinichi is?”

“We told him about Shinichi-niichan today,” Ayumi said. “We found the wallet that you and Shinichi-niichan left for the ghost. Conan-kun told us the story a while ago. He said you told him the story...”

“I told him the story of the ghost?” Ran said thoughtfully. “When did I do that...?”

“It was a year ago,” Ai said quietly. “I’m sure it’s just slipped your mind.” It was the first time that the quiet girl had spoken in some hours. She made Conan a little uncomfortable. All through class that day, he’d got the feeling that she’d been _watching_ him out of the corner of her eye. He flipped open the cover of the book, looking at the picture of the author on the inside jacket. The man’s face did seem faintly familiar.

 _But Ran-neechan said I only met him once,_ he thought. _So why should he seem more familiar than Kaa-san...?_ He sighed. _Maybe it’s just because I saw him recently and haven’t seen her in a long time. So... he’s Shinichi-niichan’s Tou-san..._ suddenly, he froze. _Wait... the others only mentioned ‘Shinichi-niichan’. How did I know that his family name was Kudo?_ Almost as if in a trance, still holding the book open, his gaze roved beyond the mystery books, to the adjacent crime section, and he reached for a book by Maurice Leblanc...


	49. Reunion Awaited

“Infiltrators? Really, Saguru,” Superintendant Hakuba Mamoru said. “Have you any proof?”

“Indicative evidence, no hard proof,” Saguru said. “But it matches up with a strike against such infiltrators in Osaka and, trust me, Chichi-ue, they struck gold. I know this sounds a little fantastical—”

“Like a damn mafia movie,” his father grumbled. “It’s more than a little far-fetched, Saguru.”

“So call the chief in Osaka,” Saguru insisted. “Please, Chichi-ue. I can guarantee you’ll get your confirmation there.” He sighed in relief as his father picked up the phone and flipped open his notebook to find Hattori Heizo’s number. This was the first time all year he’d really spoken to his father—in fact, it was probably the longest conversation they’d held since Saguru had moved back to Japan—and he hadn’t been certain that his father would believe him about the Organization. It _was_ a little far-fetched he had to admit, but... though he _wouldn’t_ admit this, he would _never_ admit this… he was somewhat jealous of Hattori Heiji. The Osakan’s father _had_ believed him, even without a second opinion to call on, and had acted on the information that Hattori had provided. He knew his son and knew that he wasn’t joking. Saguru... had no idea what his father thought of him. He barely knew what to think of his father. To be perfectly honest, he’d gone to his father not _because_ he was his father, but simply because he was the highest authority he could access in Tokyo. If he’d been able to talk to someone who outranked his father, he knew, he wouldn’t have given the man a second thought.

“Really...” his father muttered in surprise. “Ah... well, we’ll watch out for that, never fear. I see. No, he’s right here. Anything else I ought to know? I see. Well, good luck to you.” He hung up. “Seems they really did catch a few folk in Osaka,” he said worriedly, and Saguru couldn’t help but feel irritated that his father had suspected that he was making this up. What was he, an over-imaginative child? He thought of Conan.

 _Even children wouldn’t make this up_ , he thought irritably. “And?”

“Well, all indications are that none of them were in charge of the operation,” he replied, twisting his moustache nervously. “There was someone else behind it, but none of them could identify who...”

“Why the past tense?” Saguru asked apprehensively. “Is the interrogation not continuing?”

“Not without a necromancer,” his father sighed. Saguru thought briefly of calling Akako. “It seems they missed one. They got an anonymous phone call to that effect, and on top of that someone got poisonous gas into their cells. All of the captured infiltrators are dead.”

“Shit,” Saguru hissed. “You believe me now?”

“Very much so,” his father said. “Then the FBI are _really_ —?”

“They said I could tell you on the express condition that you pretended not to know,” Saguru said.

“Hmph. In any case, we had better investigate some of the suspicious officers more fully,” his father said, picking up one of the notes. “So the FBI already have the Kuroba car crash and the Edogawa kidnapping down as these people’s work?”

“Indeed,” Saguru said. “There are a couple of officers who have been taking a suspicious amount of interest in both cases...”

“I see,” his father said. “Run along, Saguru. I’ll just have a little interview with officers Sato and Takagi.”

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“ _Is that so? The world is a lot more deep and full of mysteries..._ ”

“ _But if you go by yourself... you’ll be eaten by monsters..._ ”

 _What?!_ Conan thought, as words and images flashed through his mind. _An adult? And... a little girl? Who..._ as he stared down at the cover of the book, he remembered. Arsene Lupin. He’d seen it... once before... in...

_The library. The school library. So dark, a full moon shining through the window, and on top of the bookshelf, reading the book..._

_“I’m your sibling... I guess I should say, your younger brother... through pretty far apart in age..._ ”

_The flash of a silver knife, then so much red, tearing paper, and the sunset, so beautiful..._

“Conan-kun? Conan-kun, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

_“Aren’t you glad? We got to see such a pretty sunset!”_

_It was the little girl again, her hair was too dark to be Haibara, but it wasn’t Ayumi either. Her hair blew out of her face as she glanced up at him, plaintive..._

_Wait..._ he thought, as the memory cleared. _That’s... how..._

_“No!” she yelled. “I like Ran! I want to stay as Ran!”_

_...Ran-neechan...?_

“Conan-kun? Speak to me!”

Conan jerked out of the memory, glancing up at the same face, but over ten years older.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her voice holding the faintest of trembles.

“Y-yeah,” he said. “It’s... nothing. I’m fine now. Really!” But that was a lie. This time, the memory remained in his brain, the few images and sounds, disconnected but crystal clear. Memories. But... whose...?

Because there was no way that they could be his, he was sure. _That little girl... that was Ran-neechan,_ he thought, glancing back at the older girl as she stared at the two books with a look of confused thoughtfulness. _I’m sure of it. She even said... she was Ran. But... how? Ran-neechan’s ten years older than me. There’s no possible way I could have known her when she was that small... I doubt I was even born then. So who... how...?_

Then, once more, once again, the image of the tiny Ran, silhouetted against the setting sun, but this time she was smiling.

“ _That’s great, Shinichi_!”

 _Shinichi-niichan?_ he thought, his head starting to ache. _Kudo Shinichi... what’s going on?_

Haibara Ai was watching him again.

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“Oi, Hakuba,” Heiji said, once the other kokosei-tantei had picked up his mobile. “Did ya hear the bad news an’ the worse news?”

“ _I’ve heard a lot of bad news about what happened to the ones you caught..._ ”

“Well, bad news is we missed one—an’ I’m pretty sure it’s only one ‘cause I got an ‘anonymous’ call ta that effect, ya guess who. Anyways, worse news is they slipped some kinda poisonous gas inta the cells. They’re all dead, we ain’t got no links anymore.”

“ _Did you get anything useful out of them?_ ”

“Not much,” Heiji sighed. “They were all hired independently an’ given a few names ta work with. They know nothin’ ‘bout their employer. All their instructions came from letters with no postmark, or e-mails with a million firewalls makin’ ‘em untraceable, or the like. Ya get the picture. They weren’t told nothin’ that could bring down their bosses if they were caught. None’ve ‘em even knew all a’ the others in the police. We’ve sent out trusted cops with warrants ta check out their places already, but dunno if we’re gonna get much. They were paid ta do what they were told, and paid extra ‘til they dropped morals, curiosity an’ memories, ya know? But one’ve ‘em’s still in there, an’ we figure they’re more important—better protected or somethin’. What about you?”

“ _There are a dozen or so in the Tokyo MPD, I believe,_ ” Hakuba responded. “ _Apparently your father ensured the support of mine. In any case, to start with we’re furthering an investigation into two officers in the first division who have taken an inordinate interest in both Conan-kun’s case and Kuroba’s ‘accident’. The former’s not their case and the latter is, but only inasmuch as they think it’s the result of street racers, which apparently they don’t believe._ ”

“Sounds pretty suspect to me,” Heiji agreed.

“ _I’ve only seen their names on the file—Sato and Takagi._ ”

Heiji choked. “Shit. Backtrack, Hakuba. Kudo’s confirmed ‘em clean already. They’re taking such an ‘inordinate int’rest’ ‘cause Kudo tipped ‘em off. Sorry, oughta warned ya. Didn’t ya meet ‘em that day Ku-Conan got back?”

“ _They were there? I apologize, I was not exactly making the rounds. I simply went to see that Conan-kun had indeed returned safely._ ”

“The lady cop an’ the guy she was holdin’ hands with.”

“ _Ah, I recall now. I wasn’t paying particular attention, but I do recall them being there now. I see. Definitely clean?_ ”

“Yeah, I can back Kudo up on that,” Heiji confirmed. “Good folks, real fond a’ the kiddo too, which is why they’re so involved. Real committed ta justice. They ain’t workin’ with filth like the Org. Oh, an’ there’s a couple others, def’nately trustworthy. Megure-keibu, their boss, fer one. He was there too. Good pal a’ Kudo’s, an’ Kudo’s oyaji as well. Worked with ‘im on cases since way back. The fourth cop there, Shiratori, too. I ain’t worked with ‘im much, just one or two cases, an’ ‘e’s a kinda smug bugger but no criminal, I’d say. “

“ _We’re working solely on Kudo’s intuition for a lot here, it seems._ ”

“Listen, Kudo’s been fightin’ these bastards fer a long time, he can spot ‘em a mile off,” Heiji insisted. “An’ I never seen a detective like ‘is oyaji. I swear they got Holmes in their blood or somethin’. I’d take their word over anyone else’s. Yer gonna need ‘em to track down the infiltrators, I’ll bet ya.”

“ _... Then I think I’d better go. Oh, and I understand Kid’s still in Osaka? If you see the baka, do tell him that Aoko’s worrying herself to death and I doubt mere phone calls will cut it. Sayonara._ ” He hung up.

 _Well, Déjà freakin’ vu,_ Heiji thought, thinking of Hakuba’s comments. _’E’s vanished ta live another life so’s the Org don’t kill ‘im, an’ she’s left waitin’ with jus’ the occasional phone call. Sorry, think that one’s already been copyrighted..._ It reminded him, once again, of the frankly startling similarities between Kudo Shinichi and Kuroba Kaito. He wished that Vermouth hadn’t gotten in the way of their chance to talk. Aside from Kuroba being a hell of an ally, it’d be nice to have the guy as a friend. Heiji remembered the outgoing, friendly guy from the museum with some fondness. While he knew that the friendly image was probably at least to hide some nasty skeletons in the closet, he doubted that it was _entirely_ an act. Besides, Heiji had also gotten the impression that the guy was _lonely_ ; lonely like Kudo, stuck in a unique situation that no-one else on the planet could understand. _But, hell, Kudo an’ Kuroba’s situations are about as close as they get... an’ if Kuroba’s as much like Kudo as he thinks he is, then no matter how much he likes ta think ‘e could handle it on ‘is own, no matter how much ‘e’s willin’ ta take ta prevent anyone else gettin’ hurt... he can’t, ‘e just can’t. An’ in the end, it’s just gonna hurt more’n it helps._

He thought of Kudo’s face in Kyoto, when describing when Ran had waited for him. For a moment, his eyes hadn’t been those of a seven-year-old, or even a seventeen-year-old. There had been something deep and dark there—something painful. Kazuha had repeatedly accused him of having all the sensitivity of a brick, but he knew someone whose soul was tearing when he saw it.

He had seen that same look flash through Kuroba’s eyes at the museum, the moment that he’d mentioned his father.

He thought of Mori, desperately clutching a filthy, sweat-soaked handkerchief.

 _Dammit... Kudo don’t even remember what ‘e’s puttin’ ‘em both through, but... that means Kudo Shinichi’s gonna vanish, right when this shit’s about ta blow right up,_ he realized. _Mori don’t deserve ta lose ‘im again... I wonder... Kudo’d kill me, but... is it about time she knew? So she can at least try an’ help ‘im get ‘is real memories back... ‘cause one thing’s fer sure, he ain’t gonna remember that ‘e’s Kudo Shinichi when all he gets is Edogawa Conan._

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Ran sat on her desk chair, staring at the framed photo on her desk: her and Shinichi, That Day at Tropical Land, waving peace signs, smiling, happy, _together_...

She was fiddling absentmindedly with the orchid. She had even been sneakily wearing it to school, hidden under her shirt, like some talisman or charm, like it was linking Shinichi’s heart to hers.

 _I’m starting to sound like Sonoko,_ she sighed, twisting the gold chain around her pinkie, but it was true; it was her red thread, reminding her of that precious time spent with him, the warmth and security she felt when he held her, the taste of his kiss, so beautiful, so perfect...

But now he had vanished again. It had been nearly a fortnight since he’d called or even texted her. It wasn’t normal. It was longer than he tended to go without a call even before the date. Had something happened to him?

And maybe it was just a coincidence that the timing of his disappearance matched Conan being kidnapped, but she’d been raised by a cop/detective and a lawyer, both fields in which coincidences never were. The more convenient they were, the less coincidental they were. And this “coincidentally” matched up with her old crazy hypothesis that wouldn’t go away.

 _But if my suspicions are wrong, it’ll just confuse and distress Conan-kun more,_ she thought, fiddling with the necklace. _And anyway, he has_ amnesia _. There’s no way he can confirm or deny anything about who he is..._

But he was remembering _something_ , she was sure,  when he’d been looking at that book; and was it merely “coincidence” again that it happened to be _The Adventures of Arsene Lupin, Gentleman Thief_ , the book that the ghost in the library had been reading? The ghost that Conan seemed to know all about, though she couldn’t recall having ever told him about it?

 _But maybe Shinichi told him the story,_ she reasoned. _Anyway, if he’s Shinichi, who’s Edogawa Fumiyo?_

But this was a woman who rarely turned up, whose husband had never been seen, whom Conan had been terrified of the first time she had appeared at the agency, before being suddenly friendly upon their return. It wasn’t impossible that she wasn’t actually his mother. They only had her and Conan’s word on it, and they didn’t even have the latter when she’d first appeared.

“ _Who are you, obasan?!_ ”

Perhaps she’d explained who she was while they were away, which was why he’d been happier when they’d returned; maybe she was with the police, or the FBI like Jodie-sensei, helping him with his alibi. Or maybe she was one of the people who was hunting him, and was blackmailing him, threatening him, which was why he kept his mouth shut if he really _was_ —

He had shown no recognition, no reaction at all to Edogawa Fumiyo in the café. But he had recognized Kudo Yuusaku’s face in a picture in a book.

 _But it’s just absurd,_ she reminded herself. _Okay, he looks and acts just like a miniature Shinichi, his background is shaky and easily faked, and he knows things that he couldn’t know unless he was Shinichi, but... well..._ how _? It’s not possible for an adult to turn into a child! It’s impossible... isn’t it?_

But she couldn’t help remembering something her history teacher had said. Two hundred years ago, moving pictures were absurd, impossible, the product of magic. A hundred years ago, hovercrafts were absurd, impossible, only possible in science fiction. _Ten_ years ago, for Kami’s sake, Sat-Nav would have seemed impossibly futuristic. The impossible changed and became merely the improbable, then the possible, then the mundane. Perhaps, two years ago, she would have thought that shrinking was impossible, but now...

“ _When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth_.” She smiled faintly. She could _hear_ Shinichi’s voice saying it, quoting his beloved Holmes.

 _If it weren’t impossible, merely improbable..._ she thought. _Phone calls could have been faked, if someone imitated his voice. The play... for all I know, he asked Kuroba-kun to turn up for that, just so I could see Conan and Shinichi next to each other. It’s the only time I’ve seen them together. Every other time... at the restaurant, in East Okuho, when we first met Hattori-kun... each only appeared when the other had disappeared. So... if it were truly possible... could it be...?_

She peeked out of her bedroom door, over her already-snoring father to the other bedroom, where her mother was sleeping on the bed and Conan was lying on the floor. He wasn’t asleep. His eyes were wide, staring at the ceiling, thinking.

_Shinichi..._


	50. Suspicions

Eri tapped her pen on the copy of her client’s charges, but her mind wasn’t on murder accusations. She was thinking about Conan and Ran.

Ran had been almost magnetically glued to the child ever since they’d brought him back from Osaka, either feeling that he’d need a familiar face around as he rediscovered the world, or simply afraid that he’d disappear. The kidnapper had never been caught, after all. That was why she hadn’t left yet, Eri told herself. She was covering a lot of the chores that Ran normally handled, though her daughter had managed to tear herself away from Conan long enough to drive Eri out of the kitchen. But Ran was under a lot of emotional stress right now, not just looking after Conan. Eri had noticed how increasingly often Ran would glance at the phone, as if expecting a call, and Eri suspected that she knew who from. She remembered Shinichi and Ran together on Christmas, how happy Ran had been. Where on earth _was_ Shinichi now?

One point the she refused to let her mind dwell on was Kogoro bunking on the couch. She wasn’t entirely certain whether to be touched at his rare bout of gentlemanliness or annoyed.

 _Stop that,_ she thought sternly. _You’re there for Ran, aren’t you? Forget Kogoro. That baka can go to hell..._

 _Come on,_ some traitorous voice in her head whispered. _Admit. Ran’s just a perfect excuse to go back, right? You can be right back where you want to be without sacrificing your conscience or your ego..._

“Shut up,” Eri grumbled, getting up. It was nearly lunchtime. Maybe she should go out for lunch. Maybe that would clear her head.

She strolled down to a cafe on the corner. It wasn’t a very busy time of day and the cafe was empty. She sat down in a booth in the corner for her lunch, thinking about Conan’s amnesia to distract herself. He’d picked up on daily life again remarkably quickly, but he was only remembering people in fits and starts, and half the time he didn’t respond to his own name. His mother was supposed to be returning this evening, but he didn’t seem hugely bothered about her comings and goings. He reacted to the woman no differently than he did to Eri. He’d been staring at a photo on Ran’s desk the whole time that Ran had been telling him about his mother returning.

_“Won’t that be nice, Conan-kun?” Ran said cheerily. She seemed even less cheerful than usual this morning, though, as if some new weight had been added to her mind._

_“Mmm-hmmm,” Conan said, staring at the photo. Then he reached out to point at it. “Who’s that with you in that photo, Ran-neechan?”_

_“That?” Ran said in surprise, then smiled tenderly. “That’s Kudo Shinichi. I think we told you about him yesterday, right?”_

_“Shinichi-niichan, huh?” Conan said, still staring at the photo with an odd look in his eyes. Then he physically shook his head and ran out the door for his schoolbag_.

 _Always was a strange boy, that one,_ she thought, remembering the little boy who had more or less led the entire case where she’d first met him. _You have to wonder who kidnapped him, and why... and what they did to destroy his memories..._ she sipped her coffee thoughtfully. Perhaps she ought to talk to Edogawa Fumiyo when the woman returned. Perhaps there was more to the decision to leave Conan in Japan than a child’s fear of a new place. Perhaps there was something greater to fear...

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Tome after ancient tome was thrust carelessly to the floor as Akako irritably hunted through her library for information. An adult turned into a child... mysterious amnesia... and now, talk of immortals!

 _Whatever is binding his body into the form of a child, I cannot undo,_ she thought, searching through her books. _I tried, but... it is not magical. There is some biological barrier... some form of science. How I detest_ science _. It refuses to have anything to_ do _with magic... and the block on his memories, too. It is not of his own mind, nor is it magic... What_ is _it? What did the immortal_ do _?_

Immortals; that was almost stranger than the rest of it. Not that Akako found the prospect of immortality unusual—after all, she herself had eternal youth and beauty, courtesy of Lucifer. But the person who had kidnapped Kudo—almost certainly the presence she had felt at the museum—was no witch. Akako had met a few others in her thirty years as a witch, and while their auras were of course dark, they did not feel so _unnatural_ as that aura at the museum had. It hadn’t quite been... _evil_ , as such. Just... strange. Unnatural. _Wrong_.

It wasn’t a witch, and Wiccans did not seek immortality, as it was a selfish desire, and selfish desires inhibited their magic (Akako resisted the urge to think of them as “do-gooders”). But immortality... Lucifer was the only deity who dared to offer it in this realm. Gods tended to offer it in the next. So if the immortal of which Lucifer spoke was not a witch... _how_ did they do it?

“ _The blood jewel’s tears..._ ”

 _This blood jewel... what_ is _it?_ Akako wondered, opening a glossary of dark artefacts and searching for a “blood jewel”. _Good grief, there must be a thousand jewels followed by a legacy of blood... but none associated with comets, or immortality... quite the opposite, they tend to be associated with early deaths..._ she frowned, tossing the useless book aside and opening another. _Dammit... What’s going on?_

“Do _you_ know what He means by ‘blood jewel’?” she asked her servant, who had slipped into the library after her.

“I cannot say,” the youkai replied. “It is not His work.”

 _Not Lucifer’s creation, hmm?_ Akako thought, tossing the book aside and staring at the shelves dejectedly. _Then it is unlikely to be found here._

“Akako-sama,” the youkai asked curiously, “why are you so intent on saving this boy? What is he to you?”

“He is nothing to me,” Akako snapped strolling out of the library. _Nothing at all. But... to Kuroba... he may be the difference between life and death..._

After a short time, in the empty library, the books began to crawl back to their shelves, occasionally eating spiders as they went.

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Jodie flipped Edogawa Fumiyo’s business card over and over irritably. The phone number checked out, and frankly, given the woman’s reactions to Conan, it was hard to believe that she _wasn’t_ his mother...

 _Just as hard as it was to believe that Sharon Vineyard and Chris Vineyard were the same, unaging person,_ she reminded herself. _Okay, just to invalidate the paranoia, if nothing else, let’s check out her journalistic credentials..._

Rather than go straight to the website on the card, however, she Googled the newspaper listed. The search turned up a number of _similar_ newspapers, but not the one specified. So she placed a call to Andre, who had returned to NY—apparently the place where the paper that the Edogawas worked for was based.

“ _Hey, Jodie. I heard about Conan-kun. Any progress?_ ”

“Unfortunately not,” Jodie said. “I was just wondering... have you seen a newspaper called the New Reporter? It’s supposed to be based in New York...”

“ _... Can’t say I have. I doubt it exists. There aren’t many newspapers based in New York, and I’m talking about a number you can count on one hand of a Yakuza thug. There’s no room for mass competition in the market these days. So if it was based here, I’m sure I would have heard of it. Who are you investigating?_ ”

“... Edogawa Fumiyo,” Jodie replied. “Right... well, can you do me a favour and check up on that? Try this address, too.” She rattled off the address on the card. “Can you check all that out for me?”

“ _Edogawa... Conan-kun’s mother or something?_ ”

“Apparently,” Jodie said, “but... well, better safe than sorry, right? Thanks, Andre.” She hung up.

 _If the newspaper and address are fake... who is she? Is it something to do with **Cool Kid’s** past... how he got involved with the Organization? Something to do with Kudo Shinichi? What is it that even his parents have to lie about who they are... if they _ are _his parents?_

Because two things were sticking in her mind; Cool Kid’s complete lack of comprehension when reintroduced to his mother, and the fact that, after so long chasing Vermouth, she knew a good mask when she saw one.

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“That was a close one,” Sato sighed, rolling her neck as she and Wataru sat in the opulent study.

“Allow me to apologize again,” the Hakuba boy said, returning with a thick stack of paperwork. “But you do realize that your intense interest in both these cases _did_ seem suspicious, at least until I got my guarantees from Hattori. It would seem that he’s backed up by Kudo-sensei and his son’s testimonies. I really must meet this Kudo Shinichi sometime.”

“It’s all right,” Wataru said. He wasn’t sure what had frightened the life out of him more; nearly getting arrested for being a rat for an intensely dangerous criminal organization, receiving the bare bones about said organization that _still_ managed to convey just _how_ dangerous they were, or running into a third mind like Kudo Shinichi and Hattori Heiji’s. “You trust us now?”

“Not entirely, but don’t feel insulted, I rarely trust anyone entirely,” Hakuba sighed. “That’s what developing a friendship with your worst enemy will do for you.” Both Wataru and Sato stared at him inquisitively. He pinked slightly and coughed. “Anyway... These are a few copies of FBI files on cases featuring this Organization... some are Kudo-sensei’s private files, as well. You may find a familiar name cropping up.”

“Operation Fishing Line...” Sato murmured, flipping through one folder. Then she nearly dropped it. “Kami above... _Conan-kun_!”

“ _What?!_ ”Wataru said in shock, leaning over her shoulder to see the file. The Operation was an immensely complicated weave of bluff and counter-bluff, endless mindgames and calculated risks designed to deliver a CIA noc back to the Organization without making it _look_ like they were trying to send her back... and all developed by an FBI agent, now deceased, and...

“Kami... you mean _Conan-kun_ was one of the leading minds in this?” Wataru breathed.

“It seems that his mind had become an immensely valuable commodity to the FBI,” Hakuba said. “Possibly a motive behind his kidnapping... they did all they could to avoid any suspicion becoming attached to the boy, or at the very least deflecting the suspicion to Mori Kogoro... but it looks like it couldn’t work forever.”

“Wow... I knew he was an unusually bright kid, but...” Sato murmured, flipping through the case files. “Who _is_ he?”

“Isn’t that the mystery,” Hakuba sighed. “But it seems to all be tied up with Kudo Shinichi’s disappearance... and possibly the Kaitou Kid.”

“So the reason that Kudo-kun’s asked to be left out of the case reports...” Wataru realized.

“He’s in hiding,” Hakuba confirmed. The doorbell rang in the distance. “Ah, I’ll get that... if you will excuse me...”

“This is amazing...” Sato said in shock, flipping through the folders. “If we can check up on these cases... we might be able to figure out who the infiltrators are... and _they_ might know who kidnapped Conan-kun...”

“And what they did to him,” Wataru finished. “Though I heard Kid was the kidnapper...”

“Hardly. He was one of the first ones to go looking for the boy.”

Both Wataru and Sato jerked up as Nakamori Ginzo followed Hakuba Saguru into the study. “Nakamori-keibu?!”

“Nakamori-keibu’s interests lie in catching these people as well,” Hakuba explained. “They’re after the Kaitou Kid’s life, you see, for reasons unknown.”

“When I catch this guy, he needs to be _alive_ ,” Nakamori grumbled. “You’re certain that these two are clean? I heard that Hattori in Osaka caught a good half-dozen of ‘em...”

“I have my guarantees,” Hakuba assured him. “They’re personally connected to Edogawa Conan and Kudo Shinichi... just as you and I are... _personally_ connected to the Kaitou Kid.”

“Then let’s start from the beginning,” Sato sighed. “Can I just say, though, that I’m sure you can trust Megure-Keibu as well? He’s been a good friend of Kudo Yuusaku-sensei’s for a good couple of decades, and he’s good friends with Kudo Shinichi-kun.”

“I know Megure,” Nakamori grunted. “Bad habit of interfering where he’s not wanted, but a good guy. We’re going to need a few people to identify suspects and pull this off.”

“And they might know who kidnapped Conan-kun,” Wataru said thoughtfully. “I mean, you said it wasn’t Kid, so I’m assuming it’s these people...”

“I believe so,” Hakuba said. “I’ll tell you what Hattori told me...”

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“You leave me too often, you know.”

“Accept my apologies. You know how I _hate_ to be in one place for too long...”

“So paranoid. Nothing can touch us—not here, not anywhere.”

“Not for long.”

“I _know_!” A fist slammed into the desk, a glass jumped and spilled ruby liquid across the wooden surface. It was sure to stain, but she said nothing. He had no time for such a “woman’s sentiment”. “Dammit... Snakebite _assured_ me that the little Kuroba bastard would be dead by the New Year... and yet he’s lost track of the boy entirely! Just in time for the Osaka police to swoop and capture almost _all_ of our operatives there...”

“Not all. Saku acted quickly to neutralize those liabilities. It deserves recognition, a move like that. He may even be Cabinet material someday.” He quirked a little token smile at her old joke. The Drinks Cabinet.

“Indeed. But that does not change the fact that he has not identified _who_ tracked them all down. Who? And if they pass whatever techniques that they used to identify so _many_ successfully to other police departments...”

“We may be in for a rough ride,” she said, yet she was smiling. “But then, the darkest hour is before the dawn, is it not?”

“The dawn is coming. Soon, it will be our dawn... and the darkest hour for the rest of the world. But _their_ darkest hour... will have no dawn.”

“You’re such a poet.”

“Not during work hours.” A door opened behind her. His hand reached out, beckoning the man on the other side to come in. She did not flinch at his cold green stare, but merely smiled seductively, which had as little effect on him as his cold glare did on her.

“Well, I think I shall take my leave, since you two surely need to have _man talk_ ,” she said jokingly.

“Stay in Tokyo, Vermouth.”

“As you wish, Red,” she said, waving as she left.

Gin watched her go. “You favour that woman too much,” he growled. “Why do you stand for such insubordination? She dares to call you by your codename—and not even your _full_ codename.”

“Vermouth has... _special_ capabilities,” Red said firmly. “And while she likes to run free... in the end, she will always return to me. She will not betray me.”

“I can’t say I trust her as you do,” Gin said shortly.

“You trust _nobody_ , Gin,” Red said, sounding faintly amused. “But I value that. You are needed in Osaka. While Snakebite is ghost-hunting, I need you to find our living threat there.”

“And then?”

“Do what you see fit,” Red said flippantly. “The primary concern, of course, is that they cause us no more trouble... and you have such _precise_ judgement when it comes to that.”

“Not always,” Gin muttered.

“I disagree. There is no indication that the boy is alive... it seems that his death was merely covered up. The poison has worked on every other victim, quite magnificently too. To that end, you are permitted to use it if necessary. I trust your judgement.” He smirked. “Well, I trust no-one completely. To do so would be foolish, in our business. But I trust in your intelligence.”

Gin left. He knew that line. It brought up the memory of the one time that he had seen his boss fight. He knew that if he tried to pull his gun on the man, he’d be dead before the bullet was halfway out the barrel.

And the boss _knew_ that he knew. That was why Gin obeyed the man to the letter.

So that one day... that might be him.


	51. Coming Together

Kaito slipped out of the window soundlessly. He glanced back into the little apartment. Not so much as a grain of dust had been moved. The little rat bastard would never know that he had been there.

He made his way back to his motorbike, pulling his laptop out of one of the saddlebags and downloading the CD that he’d downloaded the rat’s data onto. The man was on a night shift, so he wouldn’t be back any time soon, which had given Kaito plenty of time to riffle through his files and folders and find what he was looking for.

There were notes on dozens of cases—almost all of which, he noted approvingly, Hattori Heiji had investigated. The guy was a good detective. Too bad that he’d missed this one. It might have saved five lives. Well, too late for regrets.

 _This guy must have ranked above the others,_ he noted. _Notes of their movements, contacts, cases... well, well... he even has contacts in the police forces of the surrounding prefectures. Spread out and catch these guys, and you’ve also got their subordinates and a few other equals... going down like dominoes. I doubt it’ll get any high-rankers, but it’ll break their power over the police, and, hell, that’s good enough for now..._

Kaito rolled his neck, feeling it crick as he started entering the file path to email the information to the Osaka Police. It would take a while—this was his personal laptop, not his computer in the Kaito-cave with the custom firewalls that prevented even a Dalek from hacking in and tracing any emails he sent. If the Osaka Police traced the signal and found the laptop’s serial number, they’d find that it had been ordered by Kuroba Kaito. The bomb that he’d left in the Kaito-cave seemed to have obliterated any trace of Kid in the house. He knew that the Syndicate would trash the place, so it hadn’t been such a blow to the gut when Aoko had told him, but he did feel sorrowful for destroying the place. Especially that painting of his father. He’d loved that painting—often, he’d talked to it as if it _were_ his father, something that he did less frequently as he grew older but hadn’t really stopped doing. Still, house or no house, he wanted to go back to being Kuroba Kaito once this was all over, and he couldn’t do that if the cops were waiting with the handcuffs the second he got back to Tokyo.

He watched a blue bar crawl from the left side of the screen to the right half-heartedly. Kaito knew how it felt. He was _tired_ , exhausted, but he couldn’t go back, not yet. The Osaka police were starting to get somewhere, and they wouldn’t have done it without him. He should probably call Aoko later, though. She’d sounded so worried every time that he’d called so far, and... kind of lonely. He knew how _that_ felt, too.

He _missed_ her, dammit. He’d realized how he felt about Aoko some time ago, not long after becoming Kid, and had come to terms with that; come to terms with the fact that she was more than just a best friend to him, more important to him than anyone else in this world; come to terms with the fact that as long as Snake and his friends roamed free, he couldn’t tell her the truth, that because of that he might never be with her. Still, it had surprised him just how strongly he missed her. He missed how she laughed whenever he pulled some stupid trick that was entertaining rather than annoying, missed the tiny giggles that she couldn’t always hide when chasing him with a lethal mop, missed the days when they were little kids and they’d sleep over at each other’s houses and he’d sit up at night, insomniac that he was, watching her sleep, wondering what was so entrancing about this bubbly little girl...

The message sent, and he snapped the laptop shut, stowing it away in his bag again. Well, once he got this done, he could go back home, tell the truth, and then... what happened next was up to her, really.

He flexed his wrist. The wound in his upper arm was just a scrape, nothing serious, and was healing just fine without causing him any trouble. His wrist fracture was healing well too, and he could move it fairly freely now, though he knew better than to try anything too taxing. Perhaps he should go back to Tokyo soon and try another heist to lure “Vermouth” out—or at least try and find some more information on her.

He sped off, figuring that he’d have another go through Hattori Heiji’s notes while the guy was at school. He might have some useful info. He left not a trace of his entry into the flat.

He thought, he thought.

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Heiji heaved a heavy sigh as he dropped his book bag on the floor and collapsed into his computer chair. He already had a ton of homework and he knew that he’d pay for not doing it later, but for now he had too much on his mind to be bothered.

Hakuba had been networking away in Tokyo, apparently. He’d already  enlisted Sato and Takagi, who were talking to Megure, and Nakamori was investigating too, all covered by Hakuba’s father, who hadn’t bought into the whole mess until Heiji’s father had verified Hakuba’s story. That bugged Heiji a little. Hakuba wasn’t the kind of guy who’d make up a story like this. Did his old man not know his own son?

Kazuha had also called Ran once or twice, and it seemed that Kudo’s memory still wasn’t returning, although apparently he’d “reacted to a few things”. Heiji wondered what, and how he’d react when he realized that most of his memories couldn’t possibly belong to a grade-schooler.

He turned on his PC, checking his email for a minute. EQfanz posted a new blog, daily baseball results, a couple of pieces of spam offering various enhancements— _delete_ —and...

How the _hell_ did he get the little caricature to appear under the “sender” bar?!

If Hakuba thought that Heiji acted fast at the mansion, he should’ve seen how the Osakan zeroed in on that email. It took a moment to load because, as it transpired, it had about two dozen attachments. He set them to opening while he read the message.

_The following are some of the contents of the computer of one Saku Manabu. You may wish to investigate him more fully._

_Kaitou Kid_

_PS please do not try to trace or reply to this email, as my inbox will activate a virus that will wipe your email account, including this message, and I’d rather that you didn’t as it took such a long time to send._

_No kiddin’_ , Heiji thought as he watched the loading bar make a dispirited attempt to move slowly enough to go backwards. He was just getting up to try and locate his father when he noticed that there was a final part to the message.

_PPS_ _I think I shall return to Tokyo soon. She is no longer in Osaka, and perhaps I ought to call on Kudo-sensei. In the meantime, perhaps you should meditate on the meaning of “VETA”—the only message that I believe Tantei-kun was able to leave._

_VETA? What th’ hell?_ Heiji wondered, staring at the screen. _A message... from Kudo? A code, probably. What the hell does VETA mean? Is it an acronym? I oughta Google it._ That could wait, however. The files started opening, one after another. Heiji’s eyes widened as his jaw hit the floor. _Holy..._

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Eri slipped into a toilet stall, locking it behind her. A few minutes later, as she’d predicted, her quarry entered the bathroom, striding over to one of the mirrors over a countertop and opening her bag to retrieve her oversized makeup pouch. Eri watched her carefully through the slight gap between the door and the plastic cubicle wall.

Eri probably shouldn’t be stalking Edogawa Fumiyo, she knew. But there was something innately _odd_ about the woman. For one thing, she had consistently refused to sleep over at the agency again, insisting that she’d stay with Agasa-Hakase while she was in Japan so that Conan could return to a normal routine. Which was a reasonable enough statement, but it also meant that interaction between mother and son was very limited, possibly because their few interactions were _very_ strange. Conan still didn’t seem to recognize her too well and seemed guarded and edgy around the woman, while she also seemed to be constantly on edge around him, saying little about his past until pressed. She was very reticent, and always seemed to be watching both Conan and Ran nervously. On top of that, Eri had the nagging feeling that she’d seen the woman somewhere before, but couldn’t figure out _where_.

She also seemed... well, rather _scared_ a lot of the time. Eri felt that whatever it was that scared her was buried in Conan’s memories... and whatever it was, it had scared him too.

_“Oh, Conan-kun?” Ran said. “Can you run and get the little shopping bag in my book bag? It’s got the sugar in it, I picked some up on my way home and forgot to put it away...”_

_“Sure!” Conan said, running through to Ran’s room happily enough, but Eri caught a little tension in him as he moved further away from Ran. He really had been almost magnetically glued to her ever since he returned—he seemed scared to be alone. He dug through the bag, Eri watching him idly over the top of her book and through Ran’s open bedroom door. He located the bag, grabbed it up, heading for the door, and glanced up at Ran’s desk..._

_He slowed to a halt as a curiously blank expression fell across his face. He stared distantly at something on Ran’s desk, freezing entirely. He didn’t even blink. Eri watched him, forgetting her book completely._

_He stood like that for several minutes, not blinking, barely even breathing, with only that blank and distant expression. Was he remembering something?_

_“Can you find it, Conan-kun?”_

_He jerked out of his trance at Ran’s voice. For a moment, his expression changed to one of... fear? Deep terror suffused his face for a moment, before being replaced by a more defined version of his now usual low-level expression of confusion. As he vanished into the kitchenette, Eri slipped into Ran’s room, just for a moment. What had prompted such terror? What had perhaps prompted a_ memory _that terrified him so?_

_From where he’d been standing and his height, there was only one object on Ran’s desk that was particularly visible. It was a photograph, a couple of years old, with Ran smiling at the camera and making a peace sign, along with..._

_Shinichi. Kudo Shinichi was also in the photo, and in the background was the castle at Tropical Land. In other words, the photo that had so terrified Conan was one that had almost certainly been taken the day that Kudo Shinichi had vanished._

_Eri slipped out of the room again before anyone saw her and wondered what she was doing, but she wondered._

That night, she’d heard him whimpering in his sleep. He often did, as if his memories were only accessible in his sleep, and scared him. The only time that he was silent, he wasn’t sleeping, but wide awake, staring at the ceiling with wide, distant eyes as he tried to piece together the fragments of his mind...

Something that Edogawa Fumiyo seemed worried about.

She also seemed to need the bathroom about every hour. Once again, as Eri had suspected, she was touching up her makeup rather than using the toilet. Why did she need to do that so often? She adjusted her hair, too, and once again it was an odd motion; her hair moved unnaturally. But Eri could _see_ the roots disappearing into her scalp, so it wasn’t a wig, but there was definitely something strange. Was it just hair gel to keep her curls in?

The trill of a mobile cut through the otherwise silent bathroom. Fumiyo dug into her purse and pulled out a phone, answering it. Through the crack, Eri narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, it’s you!” she said. Her voice sounded odd... _different_. And once again, somewhat familiar, but Eri just couldn’t place it. “No, no change... Well... he seems rather frightened sometimes. I’m not surprised, he seems to be getting only occasionally flash images and he must have realized that they’re... well, _wrong_... No, I wonder if I shouldn’t just tell him the truth myself, but... I know. How _do_ you explain something like this? Anyway, I haven’t managed to be alone with him. His little friends are always around... they’re sweet children, but... well, by the time they’ve left, it’s very late and I can’t really go anywhere with him... He seems to prefer to be in a close orbit to Ran-chan all the time, anyway.” Eri’s breath caught in surprise. Fumiyo had consistently addressed Ran with “Ran-san”, so why the sudden switch to the familiar address? And that phone...

Fumiyo giggled a little, a _very_ familiar sound. Why couldn’t she place it? “I know, I know... it was ever thus. But... well, I’ve also wondered about telling _her_. She’s got a right to know, after all, sooner or later... I know what you mean. She might be able to help him... if anyone can, after all...” she rubbed her temples, then stared at herself in the mirror and rubbed them again. “Really? Well, we can hope... as long as you know what you’re doing. Of course. Be careful... I love you. Sayonara.” She hung up the phone with a weary sigh, tucking it and the oversized makeup kit into her bag, and left the bathroom without a backwards glance. Two calculated minutes later, Eri stepped out of her stall, at almost precisely the same moment as a blonde woman stepped out of the stall next to hers. Two pairs of glasses flashed as the women froze, staring at each other.

There was a long silence as they sized each other up and searched memory lane. It was the other woman who spoke first. “Mori-san’s mother, right? Mori Eri-san?”

“ _Kisaki_ Eri,” Eri corrected her. “But otherwise correct. Aren’t you Jodie Saintemillion-sensei? Ran’s English teacher?”

“Well, yes,” Jodie said. They stared at each other for another long moment, before Eri sighed.

“Okay, neither of us flushed, so can I safely assume that both of us were here for the same reason?” she said.

“Stalking, you mean?” Jodie said, quirking a smile. “All right, yes. You noticed something odd about Edogawa Fumiyo and her son as well?”

“ _Many_ odd things,” Eri said. “But why are _you_ watching the household? I know you’re friends with Ran, but is that still not more than slightly stalkerish for an English teacher?”

“For an English teacher, yes,” Jodie said, smiling slightly. “How would you feel about lunch and gossip?”

“I think I could use some caffeine. It always helps my memory,” Eri agreed.

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“So it will really be returning soon?” Yuusaku asked.

“Oh, yes,” the curator replied. “They’ve confirmed that it’s not the old crown jewels, it’s too large, so the diamond will be returning here shortly... within the week, I believe. I have a meeting now, so if you’ll excuse me...”

Yuusaku watched the curator go, looking down at the black sapphire that had been returned the night of the heist. No go, but the “diamond” was a different matter. Kaito was sure to come for it. In that case, Yuusaku might just get a chance to talk to him. At least one of them deserved to know the whole truth.

His thoughts were mainly preoccupied, however, with his phone call to Yukiko earlier. Some of Shinichi’s memories were coming back, and what was coming was scaring and confusing him. She couldn’t find a chance to explain the truth to him... her idea did make sense. Ran had always been at least a little suspicious of “Conan”. If she believed the story, she might be able to protect Shinichi now that he was at his most vulnerable, to explain the things that were confusing and frightening him...

Of course, the last thing that Shinichi wanted was for Ran to know of or get involved in the whole mess. But he was in no state to complain, and frankly, Yuusaku would rather that she knew. If the way that he still remained almost magnetically by her side despite the amnesia was any indication, he still needed her. She protected and supported him, not physically—though Yuusaku had to admit, her karate skills would certainly be useful if Gin came after him again—but protected his mind as well. Yuusaku had been surprised by how calmly Shinichi seemed to have taken his situation in stride, but in the end, perhaps that was simply because he had Ran to come back to. He had something to fight for.

Just like Kaito did. Just like Toichi had. Just like he did.

The reason that he’d called Yukiko was that he was making a detour before going home; specifically, to the Hakuba family mansion in Haido-chome.

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Ai twisted the microscope lens, almost growling in frustration. Dammit, she had been onto something, she _knew_ it! But she had hit a dead end again. The data from the Christmas test wasn’t enough. She was missing something—something vital.

She fiddled with Kudo’s various blood samples, yawning. She put another pot of coffee on. She had theorized that perhaps returning to his old body, at least temporarily, might be a strong enough shock to bring Kudo’s memories back; but what if it didn’t work? Why would he take the pill without knowing what it was? What if, after his bones had melted and reformed into larger shapes, after his skin had bubbled and stretched, after his very cells had split apart and had new ones forced between them... what if even then, he didn’t remember, and was now not only scared and lonely but confused, frightened, in pain and in an unfamiliar body? She had no idea what a fright like that would do to a person. Shrinking had been frightening enough for him, and he was in an overconfident adult’s frame of mind at the time. Now, he was a frightened child, and was still very much in a child’s frame of mind because he _thought_ he was a child.

She turned a sample cure over in her fingers. She figured that his resistance might make it another single-day deal, possibly down to half a day. She tried to calculate the potential benefits over the risks, but in the end, the choice wasn’t really hers. It was his—or _hers_.

 _What do I do?_ she wondered. _Should I just try to explain things to him... or her...?_ she closed her eyes, burying her head in her arms, remembering a trembling voice.

“ _Just hold on a bit longer! It’ll be okay...._ ”

 _I could feel her shaking,_ Ai thought. _She was_ so scared _. But she still protected me... who she barely even_ knows _... from a woman that she just thought was a random murderer. How much would she do for the man she loves, up against the most evil criminal organization ever created? She was_ terrified _... how much can she take? Because... she’ll take more than she can handle, for others... just like you, onee-chan..._ she felt tears well up at the thought of her sister. It had been two years, but Kami, it still hurt _so much_...

_Losing onee-chan hurts this much... if I... if I lose either of them, too... I..._

Her hand touched the little box under the desk, containing only a bottle and a couple of letters—her final resort to protect them. Once again, she thanked heaven that Agasa-Hakase never, ever went through her stuff.


	52. Surprise Visits

Yukiko walked quickly through the empty parking lot. She had felt a little uncomfortable all day, as if she were being _watched_. It was probably the usual unnatural paranoia of wearing a mask for too long—Shinichi had developed an impressive paranoia between the last time that she’d heard from him and the day that she and Yuusaku had played that trick on him—but it still made her uncomfortable being out alone. Maybe she’d head back to Agasa-Hakase’s for a while before heading home, talk to Ai a little. The girl seemed so reticent, so lonely. Yukiko felt that she could use a little love, or at least someone to make her eat. Yukiko was firmly of the belief that a child that age, regardless of their mental age, needed to eat a lot to give them the energy to grow—and Ai and Shinichi needed as much of _that_ as they could get.

She was just pulling her keys out of her purse when she glanced up. She didn’t know why, but something made her look up, to see someone leaning against the silver rental. A familiar face.

She dropped the keys.

“So clumsy, Yuki-chan,” Sharon Vineyard said with a half-smile. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“More than I can say for you, Sharon-chan,” Yukiko replied, thankful that her acting skills kept her voice calmer than she felt.

“I see your son’s passed on the dirty gossip,” Sharon replied with a little laugh. “Detectives are worse than tabloid reporters, eh? At least the face that you’re wearing right now protects you from _them_.”

“What did you do to him, Sharon?” Yukiko asked, not picking up the keys where they lay forgotten on the floor. “Yuusaku... he says it was _you_ that kidnapped Shin-chan. You did something to him, didn’t you, to cause this amnesia? What did you _do_ to him?” Her voice broke a little at the thought of what her old friend could have done to her son, but she managed to swallow the tears.

“How _is_ he doing?” Sharon asked. “Managing to keep his little nose clean?”

“He’s confused and his own memories, such as they are, are scaring him,” Yukiko said, her voice loaded with a degree of venom that the older woman hadn’t known she could possess. “I want my son back, Sharon-chan. Why? Why did you do this to him?”

Sharon—or _whoever_ she really was—watched Yukiko silently for a moment, with a blank, unreadable look on her face that reminded Yukiko rather forcibly of Kuroba Toichi. Yukiko felt another lurch as she remembered her lost sensei and friend. Dead...

“Was it true, by the way?” she asked harshly. “Did you really tell _Them_... who Toichi-sensei was?”

“Not deliberately,” Sharon said distantly and... uncomfortably. “I made an injudicious comment that another agent used to join the dots... that is all.” She smiled sadly. “Why did I do it, Yuki-chan? Is a reason necessary?”

“What?” Yukiko said in confusion.

“There are many reasons for killing a person,” Sharon said, looking to the side, “but in saving someone, there is no need for a logical mind. I suppose you could say... that’s why.”

“Sharon-chan—” Yukiko began, and Sharon glanced back with a little laugh.

“That’s what I always loved about you, Yuki-chan,” she said with a chuckle. “I’m the woman who caused the death of a dear friend of yours and wiped your son’s mind... but you still call me ‘Sharon-chan” like a dear friend.’ She smiled tenderly. “So as your friend, I’ll give you one piece of advice. Take your son away from here and let him live out a life in safety and peace. It may be Edogawa Conan’s rather than Kudo Shinichi’s life that he lives, but it’s preferable to having _no_ life at all, is it not?” Yukiko stared at her old friend, tears welling up. “Leave this mess to the grown-ups. We caused it... we alone shall reap the benefits... or the retribution.” With a little ripple of her fingers, she backed up, vaulting over the railing to a lower level of the car park. Yukiko ran over to the barrier and leaned over, expecting to see a broken body, but all she saw was a motorbike, accelerating away.

Gripping the railing so tightly that her knuckles went white, Yukiko sank to her knees, trembling violently. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from screaming, from fear or anger or what she didn’t know. She winced as the taste of blood blossomed into her mouth.

 _What is she doing? What does she want?!_ her mind screamed. _She_ hurt _him... but…_

_“Try this. Look, if you put the wig on first, then apply makeup on top...”_

_“Oh, I see! It looks real! Wow, Sharon-senpai!”_

_“Don’t call me senpai, it makes me sound so mature and responsible...”_

_“Hee-hee... I’ll call you Sharon-chan, then!”_

_“Only if I get to call you Yuki-chan!”_

_“Are you two practicing making disguises or gossiping?”_

_“A good woman can multitask, Toichi-sensei...”_

_What happened to you, Sharon-chan?_ Yukiko wondered. Even after all this time, after everything she’d found out about Sharon Vineyard, AKA Vermouth, she still had a hard time reconciling the kind, clever woman that she’d known for twenty years with an international criminal—a thief, kidnapper and murderer, a member of the most dangerous criminal organization on the globe... and that she had been such since before Yukiko had met her. _I guess it’s true that nobody is what they seem... I thought I knew my friend so well, but I barely knew a thing. I never thought that she would hurt anyone, least of all Shin-chan, but..._

“ _Take your son away from here and let him live out a life of safety and peace..._ ”

 _But it’s odd…_ she thought with a frown. _She never told Them where Shin-chan was, as if... even now, it almost sounds like... she’s_ protecting _him. But... why?_

_Is a reason necessary?_

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“I figured that I wouldn’t be the only one suspicious of Edogawa Fumiyo,” Jodie said, sipping her coffee, “but I have to say, I thought it would be your husband rather than you...”

“If he’s not on a case, Kogoro is just an unobservant baka,” Eri snorted. “In any case, I’ve known him since we were young, and I’ve learned more than a little about detective work from him. Such as watching for the little incongruities. Such as the fact that the phone that she answered in the bathroom was _not_ the one that I’ve seen her use before, to take calls or book flights.”

“Then you noticed that both her dialect and tone changed when she was talking on the phone?” Jodie said.

“Of course,” Eri said. “And the fact that she referred to Ran as ‘Ran-chan’ rather than ‘Ran-san’, which she normally insists on. And she was putting on makeup _again_. I know lipstick tends to come off easily, but even the cheapest powders tend to take several hours to merit reapplication...”

“That’s because it’s not normal makeup that she’s using,” Jodie said darkly. “She’s touching up a mask.”

“What?!” Eri said in shock.

“Trust me, I’ve spent _years_ hunting a woman who uses very similar masks,” Jodie said sternly. “If they’re being worn a long time, they need touching up every so often, especially if the latex is distorted for whatever reason... sweating, rubbing it—you’ve noticed the odd way that she rubs her temples?” Eri nodded. “Or the cold weather could be causing it to become brittle, which is why she needs to move it about to keep it as a realistic mask instead of a static one... in any case, she was touching up a mask. Of course, it’s better to just apply a whole new one, but depending how much her real face looks like the mask, that could take _hours_...”

“So she’s a fake?” Eri asked.

“Whoever she is, she’s not Edogawa Fumiyo,” Jodie said. “I’ve checked her out, and the newspaper that she claimed that her husband and her work for doesn’t exist. The address that she gave is for a block of apartments that, as it happens, is still under construction. It doesn’t exist either, not yet. The phone number is real, but that’s easily done by simply buying a new mobile phone in disguise... most likely the phone that you’ve often seen her using.”

“So the phone that she used in the bathroom is really hers,” Eri said thoughtfully. “Whoever she is...”

“I have my theories, but they’re classified,” Jodie said. “Whoever she is, I’m certain that she’s not Edogawa Conan’s mother.  The most important thing, until we can determine who she really is, is to keep her from being alone with Conan-kun...”

“And find out what happened to his real mother,” Eri said. Jodie raised an eyebrow. “She’s come by the agency a couple of times before, Ran said, and while Conan-kun was apparently rather annoyed at her for leaving him behind, it seems that he confirmed that she was his mother. He’s a bright boy and I doubt anyone could fool him into believing that they were his mother, disguises or not—look how good he is at catching the Kaitou Kid out. But now he has amnesia, and didn’t know her from his schoolteacher when he was first reintroduced last week. Ran and Kogoro only had sporadic contact with her before, which means that there was nobody there who would be able to definitively confirm whether or not she was, indeed, Edogawa Fumiyo. I find it hard to believe that any mother would abandon their child when kidnapped, which makes it most likely that whoever replaced Edogawa Fumiyo was certain that the real woman wouldn’t be coming... and no-one would be able to notice the switch.”

“If my theories are right, then she’s already dead,” Jodie said with frown, “and probably her husband too, which would explain the fact that he’s never turned up either...”

“So who do you think it is?” Eri asked. “The one who kidnapped Conan-kun?”

Jodie choked. “Officially, that was Kid,” she said, trying to compose herself.

“On the basis that it was somebody in disguise,” Eri pointed out, “and Kid’s not the only person on the planet who can disguise himself. If he was, we’re talking about a scenario where he’s killed two people and kidnapped and mentally mutilated a child, something that I find more than a little difficult to believe from his history and usual MO. Besides, when Ran and I were in Osaka, we heard from Hattori Heiji that Kid had apparently given the police some useful tips on how to track the kidnapper.”

“Very interesting,” Jodie mused.

“So who are you with, really?” Eri asked bluntly. “You were tracking someone who you referred to as ‘a suspect’, mentioned classified information and indeed had access to information which was not exactly public knowledge---that Conan-kun wasn’t actually kidnapped by the Kaitou Kid. What are you, Interpol? FBI?”

“ **A secret makes a woman a woman,** ” Jodie said with a wink. “For now, keeping Conan-kun safe is a priority, no? I might have to call in a couple of favours to face this woman down and expose her... can you make sure that she isn’t left alone with him?”

“Of course...” Eri said. “But...” she frowned. “I can’t help feeling that I’ve seen her face before, even though I know I’ve never met Edogawa Fumiyo before... and the voice she used to talk on the phone... I just _know_ that I’ve heard it somewhere before. And whoever it was... wasn’t a murderer...”

“Everything will come clear, I hope,” Jodie said, “when we remove her mask...”

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“Bocchama, there’s someone here to see you,” the old lady said. Saguru glanced up in surprise. Nakamori-keibu was here, along with Sato-keiji, Takagi-keiji and Megure-keibu, going over the old case files, looking for incidents that they recognized, connections—and most importantly, _names_. Officers that were involved in more than one suspect case were suspicious, or perhaps people who were involved with or who benefited from a suspect case. Who else would be coming tonight? This was only the second time that they had met, only the first time that Megure-keibu had come. None of them had told anyone else about this, had they?

“Who is it?” he asked guardedly.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” the housekeeper sniffed. “He simply said that he came for his files.”

 _His files? But these are all departmental files..._ Saguru thought. Then he remembered. “Ah! I’ll come see him.” He strode out of the room, down to the front hall. His suspicions were proved right when he caught sight of the man standing in the doorway.

“Kudo-sensei!” he greeted the author. “What are you doing here? I’d heard that you had returned to LA.”

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been telling everyone,” Yuusaku said quietly. He was looking far more pale and drawn than the last time that Saguru had seen him, with some deadly seriousness about him.

 _Is it to do with Conan-kun?_ Saguru wondered. _He seemed very close to the boy, after all... has he been investigating what had happened to him? Is that why he told people that he had returned to America?_

“So who have you gathered?” he asked, following Saguru through to the study.

“Nakamori-keibu, your friend Megure-keibu, Sato-keiji and Takagi-keiji,” Saguru said, counting them off on his fingers. “I have guarantees on the last three from Hattori, and he says that they’ve also been cleared by your son...”

“They have,” Yuusaku said, striding into the study. “How is everyone?”

“Yuusaku-kun?” Megure said in shock. “I thought you and Yukiko-kun had gone back to America?”

“Yukiko has, but I had a few things more to investigate here,” Yuusaku said. “I just need to talk to Nakamori-kun... can you spare me a minute?”

“Not a problem,” Nakamori said, standing up. He glanced at Saguru.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Saguru said.

Yuusaku watched him for a moment before nodding. “Not at all,” he said. “Come on, then...”

“Is this about Kuroba?” Saguru said as they wandered into the library.

“Sort of,” Yuusaku said, “and Nakamori-kun’s decisions to that effect...”

“Well, as I’m sure _you’ve_ guessed, it wasn’t completely out of the blue,” Nakamori sighed, lighting his pipe.

“If Baaya catches you, you will die slowly and painfully,” Saguru pointed out.

Nakamori just shrugged dejectedly. “In any case, from what Hakuba-kun’s told me about these people...” he said, indicating Saguru, “they have people high up in the police, don’t they? That’s why they escaped prosecution... how they’ve been able to trace Kid heists and avoid police intervention...”

“Precisely,” Yuusaku said. “But with Hakuba-kun’s father’s help, I’m sure we can catch a large number of the rats... they’ll have their guards up now, but if they don’t know who precisely is investigating them...”

“Fine,” Nakamori said. “Frankly, I don’t know if I can bring myself to arrest Kaito-kun, and there’s no way in _hell_ that I’m burying him too. That’s what you wanted to know, right?”

“Somewhat,” Yuusaku said with a sad smile. “I found out a very long time ago... about fifteen years. I kept it a secret... in order to help Toichi-kun try to stop Them.”

“What was he trying to accomplish by _stealing_?” Saguru snorted. “What was he looking for?” he remembered something that had cropped up in his investigations. “What is the ‘Pandora’? A jewel of some sort?”

Yuusaku looked thrown off-balance for a moment, something that Saguru wished that he’d gotten on camera. Then he nodded.

“The Pandora is something that They desire above all else,” he said. “It is indeed a jewel. Supposedly, it is a doublet—and the jewel within is only visible when held up to the moonlight.”

“... A blood jewel...” Saguru muttered.

“Correct,” Yuusaku said. “Apparently, it glows blood red. How did you know that?” he asked curiously. “Have you heard of it?”

“No... someone that I know was rambling about something to that effect...” Saguru hedged. “Koizumi-san.”

“Strange girl,” Nakamori snorted. “Well, maybe she knows something. Ask her, will you?”

“I’ve been looking, but I can’t find information on it _anywhere_...” Yuusaku said with a frown. “It’s connected to a legend of immortality... whatever the case, the doublet part seems to be true. And there’s a very attractive prospect for _that_ which is about to return to Japan...”

“That diamond,” Nakamori muttered. Then he grinned, the fire igniting behind his eyes. “I see. Kaito-kun will try to steal it, of course, and these bastards, whoever they are, will have people there to take him out...”

“But you’ll be there too,” Yuusaku said with a smirk, “to catch the Kaitou Kid, of course.”

“Of course,” Ginzo said, his gaze blazing. With the smoke from his pipe, he looked like some kind of demon out of Hell—which was what Saguru figured he was about to put the snipers through.


	53. Shadow Puppets

_Oh, shit,_ Hidemi thought, reading the message on her phone. _They’ve found ‘em..._

“What’s wrong?” Chianti asked, oiling her gun.

“Seems a couple of Tokyo MPD officers have been taking a bit too much interest in our activities,” Hidemi replied coolly. “A couple of officers in the first investigative division... they’re involved in the Kuroba car case, and it looks like they tried to reopen Kuroba Toichi’s case file. There’s a hit out on them.”

“I’ll deal with it,” Korn said shortly. “Names?”

“Sato Miwako and Takagi Wataru,” Hidemi read. “The former drives a red car... there’s no plate number, so I’m assuming that it’ll be the only red car in the police lot... There’s a stress on subtlety.”

Korn nodded, wandered over to his motorbike and drove away. He didn’t seem to bother speaking unless necessary. He didn’t chatter about his past as other agents sometimes did when they were free. Chianti didn’t really either, but seemed to spend an inordinate amount of her free time maintaining her guns. Chianti glanced up and noticed Hidemi watching her.

“I know it doesn’t really need it, but I like to keep my weapons in good shape,” she said, “so that I can take that bitch out if there’s so much as a split second’s opportunity.”

“Vermouth?” Hidemi said, wrinkling her nose. “Because she’s... untrustworthy?”

“I have no idea,” Chianti said idly. “Gin doesn’t trust her, even though Anokata really does... Frankly, I’d _love_ her to be a rat. It’d be a great excuse to kill her...”

“Only an excuse?” Hidemi said. “I’d think that being a rat would be a perfect _reason_ to die.” She grinned widely enough to bare her teeth.

“Oh, I know how you feel about rats,” Chianti said with a rare smirk. “Gin told me that story. But really... it’s because of Calvados.”

“Calvados?” Hidemi said thoughtfully. “I heard he was killed by Akai...”

“And you killed Akai,” Chianti confirmed, miming shooting Hidemi with a pistol. “But he was only there because Vermouth seduced him into getting mixed up in her shit... I told that baka not to fall in love with her, not the least because I don’t want that bitch as my sister-in-law...”

“Calvados was your brother?” Hidemi said in surprise.

“My twin,” Chianti said, gripping the barrel of her sniper rifle. “We’ve trained in the Organization since we were kids, like Gin. Just street orphans with a good shot... until _she_ found us.” She snorted. “Vermouth. Always canvassing for new talents... she supported our training, and for that, we were loyal.” She glanced at Hidemi. “Don’t get me wrong, the Organization is my life. It’s all we’ve ever had. But Calvados... ever since she found us, he was more loyal to _her_ than the Organization. I never trusted her. And the second that she gives me an opportunity...” she slammed a magazine into a handgun with extraneous force.

“She oughtn’t to take people’s loyalty away from the Organization,” Hidemi said. “If she’s going to do that, she might as well make her own group...”

“Good excuse to wipe her out,” Chianti snorted. “I swear, Kir—the first chance I get, that bitch...” she clicked the pump of a shotgun.

 _So there are factional disputes within the Organization,_ Hidemi mused. _And now, if what Jodie said is true, they’re getting more and more opposition from the outside too... Can the Organization really be breaking down?_

She curled her lips into a little smile, which Chianti assumed was an agreement with her feelings on Vermouth.

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_Conan looked around the dark area. Where was he? Tall, dark shapes hemmed him in on all sides, but..._

_BWOOOGAH_

_A ship! So this was a harbour. Yes, now he could see in the darkness, the shapes around him were shipping crates. He wandered through the crates, following no real path. Why was he here, anyway? He got the vague idea that he was looking for someone._

_BANG_

A gunshot?! _he thought wildly, running towards the source of the noise. Then he saw it: a woman, dressed in white, facing away from him, slumping to her knees..._

Who...? _he thought, but his mouth screamed, “AKEMI-SAN!”_

What? _he wondered._ How do I know her name? Who is she?

_“Hold on!” he cried, catching her. Her hat had slumped over her face, covering it. “Just hold on...” Then her hat slipped from her face._

_It was Ran._

_“R-Ran?” he said, his blood freezing as a drop of her blood slipped from the corner of her mouth, cutting a vivid path down her pale white cheek. She was gone. Dead. Because..._

_He looked up, into a pair of cold green eyes, staring mercilessly at him from between two curtains of silvery hair, between a black fedora and a high-collared black coat. The man raised a gun and_

Conan sat up with a gasp, breathing heavily. _What... what... what the hell_ was _that?_ He ran his hand through his bangs, trying to compose himself. The dream was slipping from him as fast as he tried to remember it, but two images remained crystal clear: the cold green eyes and the red path cutting across the white cheek...

“Conan-kun? Are you all right?”

Conan glanced up at Eri, who had sat up, putting on her glasses, looking at him worriedly. He gulped.

“You were... screaming, almost,” she said. “Were you having a nightmare?”

“Umm... y-yeah,” Conan said nervously.

“What happened?” Eri asked.

“I... I can’t remember.” Conan giggled a little. “Funny, huh? But I’m okay now.”

“Really?” Eri said. Her watchful stare made Conan a little nervous.

“Yeah... I’m okay, Obasan,” he insisted. “I’ll go back to sleep now. Umm...”

“Yes?” Eri said, pausing as she removed her glasses again.

“Are you... going to tell Ran-neechan that I had a nightmare?” Conan asked, then wondered why he’d asked.

“Probably,” Eri said, looking surprised. “Why?”

“Umm... can you maybe not?” Conan asked nervously. “It’s just... I feel kinda bad since she always looks so worried anyway, and I feel like it’s my fault... I just don’t want her to be worried.” He could feel himself blushing, oddly, but somehow it reminded him of the dream; of Ran’s cold, dead face...

Eri watched him quietly for a moment, and then said, “Well, I won’t tell her if she doesn’t ask. Now go back to sleep, okay? You still have a few more hours to sleep...”

“Okay,” Conan said, lying back down. He didn’t go back to sleep.

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“We might as well go check out the remnants of the Kuroba’s home,” Miwako sighed, clipping on her seatbelt. Takagi nodded as he sat down next to her.

“Seems that Kuroba Chikage is still in a coma,” he said, “although Hakuba-kun wouldn’t say how Kuroba Kaito is involved, though...”

“Everyone’s being taciturn about this whole affair, and I’m not surprise,” Miwako sighed. “Especially considering how large-scale it’s getting...”

“Still, at least we’re on track for finding out what happened to Conan-kun,” Takagi said cheerfully. “And maybe _why_ it happened.”

“Yeah,” Miwako said, tapping the brakes as a red light appeared. “I hope...” she frowned, stamping on the brakes. The car wasn’t slowing.

“Sato-san...?” Takagi asked as Miwako started to feel like panicking.

“The brakes...” she gasped, then swerved before the car crashed into the car in front, straight into the oncoming traffic. She took her foot off of the gas, but the car didn’t slow down. She wrenched the steering wheel as two cars in the cross lanes nearly crashed into the side of the red car. It started to fishtail out of control.

“Let’s hope this still works,” Miwako growled, wrenching the handbrake. The car executed a hairpin turn, narrowly missing two more cars by inches, before crashing into the lamppost with the traffic lights on it and finally coming to a stop. Miwako and Takagi jerked forwards as the car stopped, Miwako’s seatbelt just preventing her from nutting the steering wheel. People were yelling outside of the car. Miwako paused to start breathing again.

“Sato-san?” Takagi asked. “Are you all right?”

“I’m okay, Takagi-kun,” Miwako said, unclipping her seatbelt. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, touching his forehead. “Banged into the dashboard, but it’s not bad... I don’t feel any blood...”

“That’s because it’s on the other side of your forehead,” Miwako said, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing his forehead with it. “Here, put pressure on it with that.”

“Why didn’t the airbags deploy?” Takagi asked, getting out of the car. The lamppost was quite deeply embedded in the bonnet of the car. Miwako sighed in mourning of her car, deeply relieved that it wasn’t mourning for Takagi.

“Probably the same reason that the brakes weren’t working,” she suggested, peering at the smoking hood. “Hard to tell since the car is clearly wasted, but I’d say the brake lines were cut.”

“Kami...” Takagi muttered, staring over the smashed car. “Can I take this opportunity to take back anything derogatory that I have ever said about your unusual driving skills?”

“Whoever was trying to kill us didn’t do their research,” Miwako said with a smirk.

“If someone just tried to kill us, then why are you smiling?” Takagi asked, pressing the handkerchief a little harder to his forehead as a curious knot of people surrounded them.

“Because if someone’s trying to kill us,” Miwako pointed out, “then we’re on to something.”

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“... _But I have my suspicions. Listen, can we meet tomorrow? That’ll give me time to check something out. I don’t want to waste your time on a wild goose chase...”_

 _“_ Good move, Saku,” Gin said quietly, lighting a cigarette. “We’ll meet at your place. Tomorrow, 4am.”

“ _4am_ _? But..._ ”

“You’re not on the night shift, are you?” Gin said dangerously.

“ _No, no. Just... never mind. 4am’s cool. No-one will be awake to see..._ ”

“Precisely,” Gin said. He hung up, having nothing more to say.

“What do you think, Aniki?” Vodka asked, reading the information that Saku had emailed them on his laptop while Gin drove along the streets of Osaka.

“I think that if the police could catch five infiltrators so successfully, then there’s no reason that they couldn’t trace the sixth,” Gin said. “Besides, there’s been no sign of the Kuroba boy—Snakebite failed _again_ —and an anonymous call from Osaka was placed to those two suspicious cops in the 1st division... and whoever it was had a white noise generator, so the precise content of the call is unknown.”

“Which is just more suspicious, eh?” Vodka said. “Is this the two that Korn said he’d deal with?”

“The _late_ Sato and Takagi,” Gin said with an unpleasant smirk. “Soon to be joined by whoever their counterpart is in Osaka...” he tapped a box in his pocket.

“Aniki... you’re going to use _that_ again?”

“Anokata ruled it a simple police cover-up,” Gin said. “It has a 100% success rate... and a 100% rate of remaining unsolved. Perfect for dealing with nosy cops...”

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“That information that you passed on came up trumps, Heiji,” Heizo said as his son came in the door, pushing his book bag into his armpit as he pulled his gloves off. “We’re tracking the man now, and a couple of bugs have been placed in his home... it seems that he’s planning to meet a superior officer tomorrow morning. We’ll get them both in a dawn raid at 4.”

“Nice,” Heiji commented. “They’re onta somethin’ in Tokyo too, it seems...”

“How do you know that?” Heizo said.

“Got a text from Hakuba on th’ way home,” Heiji said, waving his phone. “He’s been poolin’ info with a few confirmed clean cops in Tokyo... an’ someone tried ta bump a coupla ‘em off with th’ old cut brake line gimmick. Wouldn’t hafta do anythin’ if they weren’t gettin’ close ta somethin’ they wanted hidden, would they?”

“That’s true,” Heizo said. “By the way... I saw the word ‘VETA’ scribbled on your desk. What does it mean?”

“Dunno,” Heiji sighed in annoyance. “I Googled it an’ got an Indian movie, a river in Romania, a town in Colorado, a Norse town, an’ a Soviet sprint canoer... none’ve which are what we’re lookin’ for, I think, given th’ context...”

“What is the context?” Heizo asked curiously.

“A message from Kid about what happened ta Conan,” Heiji said.  Heizo narrowed his eyes.

“Why didn’t you mention this before?” he asked.

“I wanted ta try ta figure it out first, but no dice,” Heiji said. “Anyway... I figure there’ll be somethin’ in it at wherever the kid was held...”

“There is,” Heizo said. “I wanted to know because we found an old Kitsune shrine in the woods to the north. There were traces of cigarette butts there... and scratched into a rock...”

“VETA?” Heiji said in surprise. “So it’s a message from Ku-Conan or somethin’?”

“Possibly,” Heizo said, “But it doesn’t quite say VETA. It says V=ETA. The sign was very faint.”

“V... _equals_ Eta?” Heiji said in surprise.

“Which begs the question: Who or what are V and Eta?” Heizo said.

 _V... Vermouth?_ Heiji wondered. _But what in th’ hell is Eta?_

“There was something else, in the shrine,” Heizo said. “Scrawled into the dirt... it was smudged, but it wasn’t washed away because of the rain...” he handed over a little piece of paper. “There’s a copy.”

It showed a crudely-sketched monocle around what appeared to be two jewels, one surrounding another.

_What the..._


	54. Silence

“G-Gin?!” Saku said in surprise. “It’s only three... you’re early.”

“I know,” Gin said shortly, sweeping into the apartment. “So?”

“I know who it is,” Saku said. “The one that tracked down all of our moles in the police. The reason that we couldn’t find him sooner is because he _isn’t_ police—not yet.”

“So who is it?” Gin said sharply.

“Chief’s son, Hattori Heiji,” Saku replied promptly. Gin could almost _smell_ his fear. “Eighteen. Dark-skinned. Been hanging around the police station since he was born, practically. That’s how he did it—he has influence over cops, knows what cops he can trust, protected by his father’s influence... he’s been seen snooping around places that we neutralized after that Kid debacle...”

Gin held up a hand to silence the man as he answered a silently buzzing mobile phone. “Vodka. Well?”

“ _They knew. They’re coming._ ”

Gin hung up, sweeping across the room. He strode over to Saku’s phone, unplugging it.

“What?” Saku said. Gin woke up his computer, scanning through the files.

“Don’t you codelock your Syndicate information?” he said quietly.

“Of course,” Saku said in surprise.

“They’re not locked now,” Gin commented. “Someone’s been through them. Possibly the same someone who bugged your phone. That is why the police are now coming for you. They were planning to catch me too, had we genuinely met at 4am.”

“That’s why you came... w-wait!” Saku cried as he suddenly found himself looking down the barrel of a gun. “N-no... please... I have been so loyal...”

“It will be a shame to lose you,” Gin said, grabbing Saku’s hand and forcing it around the trigger, “But you are a _liability_.”

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“What?” Toyama said in shock.

“He’s dead, sir,” Otaki said. “Handgun in his head, bullet through the chin and into the brain. Only his fingerprints on the gun and gunpowder residue on his sleeve. He knew we were coming and did himself in.”

“... and the superior officer that he was supposed to be meeting with?” Toyama sighed, already knowing the answer.

“No sign, sir. His computer was wiped, though. Only his fingerprints on it, so he must have done it before he died...”

“The chief already has his data,” Toyama said. “File this as a suicide investigation, but keep _special watch_ out for anything unusual... you know?”

“I’ve got the gist from Hei-chan,” Otaki said darkly. “I’ll see what I can do, but there won’t be much to find, I fear...”

“You might at least find out if they know _who_ precisely is onto them,” Toyama said quietly. “Kazuha’s rather attached to that idiot, so let’s be certain that he’s not in danger, alright?”

“Onto it, sir,” Otaki said, turning back to the flat.

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Yuusaku paused. Even though it was early morning, he hadn’t really slept. Ginzo had given him the few surviving tapes and CDs to go through, to find what was valuable to them. Most were music or movies, just normal things, but one or two had comprised of the Kaitou Kid’s far more comprehensive records of Syndicate-related cases. But Yuusaku had stopped when he heard... _something_. The front door had opened... that was it.

He had locked the door hours ago. So either someone with a key was sneaking in... or someone had picked the lock. And since Toichi had once complained about how hard his locks were to pick, it would have to be a very _skilled_ thief. Like... Kaito...?

He slipped into the front hallway as someone padded down it. Then he flicked on the light.

Whoever it was had his back to him, heading for the stairs, but when the lights went on he spun rapidly around, raising a gun—a _real_ gun—moving at snakespeed. Yuusaku froze.

“I thought you and your wife had returned to America,” the interloper said, his voice quiet, muffled. His face was covered by a black balaclava, only a pair of sharp golden eyes visible.

“That’s what we wanted people to think,” Yuusaku said calmly. “But I had investigations to continue here... and someone to protect.” Both were quiet for a moment. “I don’t know when his memory’s coming back,” Yuusaku eventually said, “but if it comes back entirely, it probably won’t be soon. So whatever you two were planning, perhaps you ought to share it with me... because you need two people, don’t you?”

“How much do you know?” the masked figure said quietly.

“I know that the body was switched,” Yuusaku said quietly. “Unclaimed bodies stay in the police morgue for a year... so you knew that no-one would notice if it vanished, huh? Or if it was replaced later... Plus, some of Yukiko’s disguises supplies are missing, as well as a head of black hair dye. Their hair’s the same length, it wouldn’t be hard to make the switch, since no-one would be looking too closely anyway... or notice if the drawer was empty for a while... But for it to work, did he tell you...?”

“He told me,” the masked figure said quietly. “After my suspicions about _her_... it wasn’t too hard to believe.”

“And Kir?” Yuusaku asked.

“If she’s noticed anything, she’s been smart enough not to say anything,” the masked figure replied. “It gave me time.”

“So what did you find?” Yuusaku said.

“I know where _it_ is,” he replied. “And that there is only one person alive who might know how to destroy it...”

“Do you know where they are?” Yuusaku asked. The balaclava shook as the gun lowered.

“She has hidden herself even better than your son did,” he mused. “But I think I can track her down soon...”

“We have a lot to talk about...” Yuusaku said, striding down to the library. After a moment of deliberation, the dark figure followed.

“It’s less hassle than killing you,” he said by way of explanation.

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“Bocchama, you cannot imagine how relived I am to see you home safe,” Jii said tearfully and in not a little surprise as Kaito pulled the old man into a strong hug.

“I’ve been kinda lonely,” he admitted. “It’s been all go. How’s okaa-san?”

“Healing well, though still comatose,” Jii sighed. “Hakuba-san and Koizumi-san both seem to have been busy. A number of police officers have been communing regularly at the Hakuba mansion... I think Hakuba-san’s father has been putting some influence behind it.”

“How’s... Aoko?” Kaito asked tentatively.

“Doing as well as can be expected, I’m sure,” Jii said. “She regularly visits your mother in your stead. She seems very worried, though she tried not to show it... Are you going to go see her?”

“Too dangerous,” Kaito sighed unhappily. “Officially, I’m still AWOL, and explaining why I’m not brings up too many things that... I’m just not ready to explain.” He ran a hand through his hair, which was so messy that the motion actually made it marginally neater. “First things first: that pretty diamond that I was interested in... what was the verdict on it?”

“Not European was the verdict,” Jii replied, leading Kaito up to one of the guest rooms. “I believe it is returning around the twenty-fifth or twenty-sixth...”

“So perhaps I ought to plan a heist for the twenty-seventh,” Kaito said. “I’ve got a good feeling about that thing. Once I’ve got it, I’ll have to talk to Kudo-san and find out what the hell is going on...” he frowned. “Come to that... what about tantei-kun?”

“I have heard nothing of his condition, although I understand that he still suffers from amnesia,” Jii commented. “I wonder how much of his memory is returning... when or even _if_ it will return...”

“A mind as powerful as that kid’s doesn’t just go away,” Kaito said. He dumped his stuff on the futon, then headed for the window.

“Bocchama, you really ought to sleep...” Jii said worriedly.

“Just got something to check out, then I’ll be back and asleep, I swear,” Kaito said, vaulting out of the window.

“I have doors, you know...” Jii called after him as Kaito ran down the silent, moonlit roads.

His feet took him there by memory; to the huge tree growing by an apartment block, too big and old to be cut down, so it had been left, since the block was right next to a park anyway. The lower branches were shiny smooth and flat from being climbed by hundreds of little feet, but by the time most children got large enough to reach to upper branches they had grown up too much to climb trees any more.

Not Kaito. Aoko would say that it was because he’d never grown up, but she didn’t know that he still climbed the tree. He didn’t do it in daylight, anyway.

In the pitch black, he navigated the maze of branches by memory, until he reached the large, strong one on which he so often sat, on nights after heists when he was coming down from the adrenaline high and his mind was replaying the dark moments; how often he could have fallen to his death, crashed a bike or his hanglider, bullets whipping past his head...

When he needed comfort the most, he sat here. With his back against the thick old trunk of the tree, he could see into Aoko’s bedroom window.

When they were little kids, and had sleepovers, Aoko always fell asleep first; she had the remarkable ability to simply conk out the second that her head hit the pillow. Kaito would watch her sleep; even as a child, it made him feel oddly peaceful, comforted, and that comfort was enough to lull him to sleep himself.

Even now, it made him relax a little, to sit there, to be able to see her curled up under her duvet, sleeping peacefully. All the nightmare of the past month—Snake at the museum and the cars and that bitch wearing his mother’s face and kidnapping tantei-kun and that powerful mind buried under confusion and fear and amnesia and the constant watching for a sniper sight on his back...

It all seemed to fade away as he sat there, watching her sleep.

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_Aoko was falling. She couldn’t see where she’d fallen from, and the ground was too far away to see as well. It almost felt a little peaceful, as if she were suspended in the air, the wind rushing through her hair._

_“Yes, it is pleasant, isn’t it?”_

_She glanced to the side in shock to see the Kaitou Kid falling next to her, arms crossed and looking supremely unperturbed._

_“To fly, to be on top of the world...” he said. “But the higher you fly, the harder you hit the ground.”_

_“Then why do you do it?” Aoko asked._

_“You know why,” he said quietly. “You’ll know if only you realize...”_

_“What does that mea—?!” Aoko said, but suddenly Kid jerked up, flying above on his hanglider, and something was falling from the hanglider, falling past her—_

_Kaito fell towards her, then fell past her, reaching for her, and she could see the ground now and Kid was flying away but Kaito didn’t have wings—_

_“It’s okay,” Kaito said, suddenly placing a hand on her shoulder. “I promise. It’ll all be okay...”_

_Aoko blinked, and suddenly she wasn’t falling, Kaito was standing over her, hand on her shoulder, looking concerned. She squeezed her eyes closed, opened them again, and—_

Nothing. The room was empty, her door and window closed. She was alone.

She breathed slowly, trying to slow her pounding heart. She must have dreamed that Kaito was here, trying to calm her down and pull her out of her nightmare. After all, he wasn’t even in Tokyo, let alone sneaking into her room.

 _Although he’s pervy enough to do that..._ she thought with a giggle.

She sat up, pressing her head into her knees as she tried to forget the images of falling, of Kaito hurtling towards the ground. She idly wished that he _were_ here, just so that she could see that he was okay. He’d probably make some stupid joke about it, or flip her nightdress, and by the time the mop chase had ended she’d have forgotten all about the nightmare. Or he’d show her some new trick, and in no time she’d be laughing again...

 _Yeah... he’s sweet enough to do that, too..._ she thought with a little smile. _He always tries to cheer me up... look at me, he’s not even here and he’s making me smile again..._ _He always cheers me up, ever since that day..._

She combed her fingers through her hair, remembering the day that she’d met Kaito.

_She was starting to sniffle. Okaa-san was sick again, so she was in the hospital. Aoko didn’t know when she’d be back. Sometimes she was in for a long time before she got well enough to go home, and sometimes she didn’t stay long at all. Aoko wished they’d make her completely better so that she didn’t have to go in at all, but one of the nurses had explained to Aoko that her mother’s illness was very, very hard to make go away, and they didn’t have a way to make it completely better yet, but they would do all they could to keep her from getting worse._

_It made Aoko lonely when Okaa-san was in the hospital. Otou-san worked a lot, so even though he took extra time off when Okaa-san was in hospital he still couldn’t seem to be around as much as Okaa-san always was when she was well, and sometimes there was an emergency and he couldn’t come at all. He was never around when there was a heist from the Kaitou Kid, although luckily there hadn’t ever been one when Okaa-san was in hospital, so Aoko hadn’t had to be all alone yet. Still, Otou-san travelled a lot and even when he was in Japan he wasn’t around much. Like now. He’d promised to take Aoko to go see a magic show, but there must have been an emergency because she could see from the big clock tower that the show would start soon, and he wasn’t here. So Aoko was alone, and wouldn’t get to see the show. She stared at her feet sadly._

_“Are you all alone?”_

_Aoko glanced up. A little boy, about her age, was peering at her curiously._

_“Otou-san was going to come take me to see a magic show,” she said, “but I don’t think that he’s coming now because of work.”_

_PWING!_

_Aoko stared in surprise at the little red rose that had appeared out of nowhere. The little boy held it up, handing it to her._

_“My name’s Kuroba Kaito!” He said. “Hajimemashite!”_

_“Oh...” Aoko said, blushing a little as she took the rose. “Hajimemashite. I’m Nakamori Aoko.”_

_“You still want to see the show, Aoko-chan?” he said, grabbing her free hand to tug her along the street._

_“Y-yeah, but Otou-san has the tickets...” she said nervously._

_“It’s all right!_ I _don’t need tickets!” Kaito laughed. “I’ll show you the super-special secret way in!”_

_Curious, Aoko gripped his hand and ran along after him, giggling a little at her strange new friend._


	55. Tropical Trigger

“That was fun!” Ayumi said happily. “Wasn’t that great, Conan-kun?”

“Uhh... yeah,” Conan agreed, smiling. Throughout the ride, though, he’d felt oddly jumpy. He kept feeling like he was in someone’s sights. He’d even ducked when another boat had sped past them. Genta, Mitsuhiko and Ayumi had laughed, but Agasa-Hakase had looked worried and Ai had had that creepy thoughtful look. He’d had more fun at football practice during PE the other day. He’d quickly discovered an aptitude for the sport matched only by his rapidly rediscovered love for it. Despite catching a nasty tackle in his shin, he’d loved it, and felt more carefree than he could remember being—which admittedly wasn’t far back.

“Let’s go on this rollercoaster next!” Genta said, leading them to the dragon coaster. Mitsuhiko and Genta sat in the front, Conan sat behind them with Ai, and Ayumi sat at the back with Agasa-Hakase.

“So how are you doing? Remembering anything?” Ai said quietly as the rollercoaster started to climb slowly. Conan looked at her in surprise.

“Umm, not really,” he said. “I mean... am I meant to?”

“This place was very important to you,” she said enigmatically.

“What happened?” Conan asked curiously.

“I don’t know for certain,” She said calmly. “But you do.”

Conan just sighed, not asking again. She had an annoying tendency to do that, he noticed. She seemed to know so much about his past that she wasn’t telling...

She paled visibly, though, when they reached the peak of the rollercoaster. It was a _long_ drop.

Then they dropped.

They all screamed as they practically went into freefall. Ai wasn’t screaming, although it seemed to take a lot of her iron self-restraint not to. She glanced at him, the grabbed his hand tightly.

 _Maybe she is scared..._ Conan thought, then something tugged in his head. He blushed, then felt confused. For a moment, it hadn’t been Ai next to him, gripping his hand fearfully...

It was gone as soon as it came... then they went into the tunnel.

In the darkness, his head started throbbing again, like it had before the book. _Someone was gripping his hand then it was warm and damp and then they came out of the tunnel and it was BLOOD..._

He glanced backwards as they exited the tunnel. He didn’t know what he expected to see, but it wasn’t Agasa-Hakase clutching his glasses and Ayumi screaming fearfully. For a moment...

“Are you all right?”

Conan jerked his head up. He looked over at the concerned Ayumi. The ride was over; everyone else was staring at him curiously, having already gotten off.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, getting off. “It’s nothing, really...”

“Are you sure?” Mitsuhiko said. “You’re kind of pale...”

“I bet he’ll feel better once he eats something!” Genta said, pointing at a food stall.

“Always food...” Mitsuhiko muttered, rolling his eyes. The two boys started bickering as they wandered over to the food stall. Conan rubbed his forehead, the pounding not subdued yet. Ai and Agasa-Hakase were both watching him sternly.

He glanced over as they passed a dark alleyway...

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“Akako-sama, Hakuba Saguru is here to see you...”

“Really?” Akako said in surprise. “Well, do show him in...” She rubbed her temples as she pored over the heavy old book that she had borrowed from an older witch. _Dead languages... always such a pain to read..._

“Koizumi-san. How are you?”

“Irritated,” she sighed without looking up as the blond detective entered her library, looking curiously over the rows of books. “How is the investigation progressing?”

“Very well, if the fact that someone tried to kill two of the officers that I’m working with is anything to go by,” Hakuba commented. “But as far as Conan-kun and Kuroba go... I was wanting to ask you something, Koizumi-san. It’s rather... unusual, so I decided that you’d be the best one to ask.”

“Ask away,” Akako said, flipping a page.

“Have you heard of something called the ‘Pandora’?” he asked.

“The nosy mythical woman who unleashed all of the evils of the world?” Akako said idly.

“I mean the jewel which is connected to a legend of immortality,” Hakuba said sharply. Akako froze.

_The blood jewel..._

“Of course...” she murmured. “How foolish!”

“What?” Hakuba asked.

“It comes from the comet Pandora!” Akako said. “Lucifer spoke of a comet’s pass... the Pandora comet only passes every ten thousand years! _That_ is why there are no written records of it!”

“No written records? You’ve _already_ been looking?” Hakuba said in surprise.

“Lucifer spoke of a blood jewel granting immortality,” Akako said offhandedly. “But if it fell to earth ten thousand years ago... Kami, that was millennia before any form of writing was invented! It is a pure oral tradition!”

“Immortality... probably the same jewel, then. And if it’s an oral tradition from ten thousand years ago, then it’s impossible to know the truth about it,” Hakuba pointed out. “It will have mutated beyond recognition...”

“Unless the original teller is still telling the story,” Akako said, her red eyes glinting. “It is a story of immortality, after all. Lucifer spoke of an immortal not of his doing... well, it wouldn’t be of his doing, would it? If this jewel fell to earth ten thousand years ago, it predates Lucifer by some millennia, and who knows how old it was before that?”

“Do you listen to yourself?” Hakuba demanded. “Immortality—”

“ _Is real_ , Hakuba-kun,” Akako snapped. “ _I_ should know. Someone was granted immortality by the jewel and is still telling the tale, as simple as that.”

“This Organization has someone _immortal_ among them?!” Hakuba said, half incredulous and half angry.

“Organization?” Akako said coolly, picking up her book again.

“The one that’s after Kuroba,” Hakuba sighed, sitting down at another chair. “We only know of the legend of this jewel Pandora because Kudo-sensei apparently heard it from Kuroba Toichi, who was told it by a member of the Organization when they attempted to hire him to locate and steal it for them...”

“That makes sense,” Akako muttered. “Lucifer did say that it was an immortal who took the child... then he truly is connected to Kuroba-kun... they share the same foe...”

“So this jewel is real, it granted immortality to someone ten thousand years ago, and now they’re a member of a criminal organization which is attempting to _very subtly_ take over the world, kidnapped Conan-kun and tried to hire Kuroba to find their lost jewel?” Hakuba summarized sceptically.

“More or less...” Akako muttered, ignoring the sarcasm. “The boy is a danger to them as Kuroba-kun is... but both are necessary...”

“What...” Hakuba began, but Akako cut him off.

“Even I don’t really know yet,” she said. “All I know is that to destroy this Organization, we need Kuroba... and Kudo. And for _that_ , we need the boy’s memory returned...”

“What does Conan-kun’s memory have to do with Kudo Shinichi?” Hakuba demanded.

“Kami above, I thought you were a _Meitantei_ ,” Akako sighed. “Have you not realized what Edogawa Conan truly is...” she trailed of, staring at the old recipe in the book.

“ _Amnesial_ ,” she breathed. “But of course. Liquid amnesia. Half the ingredients have been extinct for millennia...”

“Liquid amnesia?” Hakuba asked with a frown.

“Medical drugs such as midazolam or flunitrapezam are only science’s recent attempts to replicate the powers of Amnesial,” Akako explained. “They cause short-term memory loss for traumatic events such as anaesthetic-free surgery... but Amnesial is true, complete amnesia. No memories, no clue... no antidote.”

“But Conan-kun has been remembering things, Kudo-sensei said,” Hakuba pointed out. “Just vague flashes, but...”

“Yes...” Akako mused. “If his mind is truly capable of recovering from the effects of Amnesial... how powerful he must be...”

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Conan took a step towards the alley.

“ _See you later, Ran!”_

_“Shinichi, wait!”_

His head was pounding even harder, like something had struck him on the back of the head.

_“... Let this kid tail you...”_

_“...rub him out...”_

_“... new poison that the Syndicate developed...”_

“Conan-kun?”

“Shhh! He might be remembering...”

“ _...untested on humans... untraceable... unsolvable murderer...._ ”

Pain shot through him, or the memory of pain, his very bone marrow burning...

“ _Sayonara, Meitantei..._ ”

_And there they were; the cold green eyes from his dream, the evil murderer who had taken his life..._

_... A cold smile..._

_... And he was..._

_...He..._

_“Shinichi!”_

Conan jerked back to reality as his knees hit the concrete, tearing a football scab open. He was trembling violently, the impossible memories flipping through his head, suddenly crystal clear.

“Agasa-Hakase?” he whimpered, his voice quiet, desperate. “What’s going on? What’s happening to me? It’s... wrong... It...”

“Conan-kun, what happened?” Ayumi said, approaching the kneeling boy slowly, holding two chocolate bars. “Are you okay?”

Conan glanced over at Ayumi, pure terror written over his face for a second, and then his face shut down like a mask, all the fear and confusion vanishing.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he insisted. “I just have... a headache, that’s all. Maybe it’s too many rollercoasters...”

 _What’s going on?_ he wondered. _I don’t know... but..._ he glanced back at Agasa-Hakase and Ai. _I think they do..._

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 _Odd,_ Jodie thought. _So that coaster reminded Cool Kid of something... and that alleyway? Might as well check it out..._

She crouched down in a cafe, out of sight of the kids should they pass, and started to search the internet for articles about incidents at Tropical Land. The first thing she found was a murder, about two years back, on the Dragon Coaster. A man was beheaded by his ex-girlfriend. The whole murder was solved by...

 _Well, hello... if it isn’t a familiar face..._ Jodie mused as a picture appeared of Kudo Shinichi, talking with a stern expression to a tearful blonde woman, Mori Ran clinging to his arm and trying not to look at the bloody corpse. Jodie scanned the article, then her heart froze as her gaze returned to the picture. There, at the very edge of the frame, barely visible, was a tall, thickset man in dark clothes and sunglasses. Next to him, another black trenchcoat was almost entirely out of the picture, only the edge of an arm visible. But Jodie could guess who would be on the other end of that arm.

 _Gin and Vodka..._ she realized. _On what is officially the last case ever solved by Kudo Shinichi, no less..._ she decided to go ask a few questions.

“Anything odd happen that day?” she asked a security guard, after flashing her FBI credentials. “Aside from a murder?”

“Not really...” the man said, scratching his head.

“There was that weird kid,” another guy commented.

“Oh yeah!” the guard remembered. “We never did find him...”

“Weird kid?” Jodie said sharply. “Was it a little boy?”

“Yep,” the man confirmed. “About six or seven... elementary school, anyway. He was lying underneath the Ferris wheel in oversized clothes with a head injury... we figured he was a runaway. Came up with this crazy story about blackmailers and gun smuggling... anyway, he legged it out of a window when we took our eyes off of him and ran like hell. We tried to chase him but he was a nippy little bugger... lost track of him completely. I guess he must’ve gotten picked up somewhere else, since we never heard any missing child reports... weird little kid...”

“Thank you for your time,” Jodie said politely, walking away to inspect the now-empty alleyway. As she had suspected, it led out to an empty lot below the Ferris wheel. She wandered around, as if expecting to see some clue left untouched in two years.

 _Kudo Shinichi solves a murder at which Gin and Vodka were present,_ she summarizes, _mere hours before a boy whom I’m almost certain is Edogawa Conan is found in oversized clothes, with a head wound and a crazy story... Are the two connected? Hakuba said that both boys had seen something that they shouldn’t have... the gun smuggling? Gin and Vodka were here to blackmail someone and they saw? But then Kudo-kun vanishes and Conan-kun is left behind with a head injury... did Kudo-kun try to lead them away, then go into hiding because his face was seen? But then how did Conan-kun get the head injury? Did Kudo-kun knock him out to keep him from following? It seems like the kind of thing that the child would do... whatever it was, he seems to remember it..._ then she frowned. _Wait. But how did he remember the murder on the rollercoaster? The newspaper report said that those on the rollercoaster were six adults and two minors, but neither of the minors were Conan-kun... they were Kudo-kun and Ran-kun... but Conan-kun appeared to remember something_ on _the rollercoaster, not on the platform where he might have seen the body..._

She fisted her hands unconsciously at the thought of Gin hunting Conan down. _What is going on?_


	56. Unmasking

_Dammit, I am going to learn to do this if it kills me..._ Eri thought, staring at the fish on the chopping board.

“Hello...? Oh, Kisaki-san! Forgive me, your door was open...”

“No problem,” Eri said encouragingly, though her heart had jumped when Edogawa Fumiyo had appeared behind her. “How are you, Edogawa-san?”

“Fine, fine...” Fumiyo sighed. “Worried about Conan-chan, of course... where is he, anyway?” Eri could not help watching the woman critically. Her worry for Conan seemed so _genuine_ , but...

“ _Whoever she is, I’m certain that she’s not Edogawa Conan’s mother.  The most important thing, until we can determine who she really is, is to keep her from being alone with Conan-kun...”_

“He went to Tropical Land with some friends,” Eri said, turning back to the chopping board, clutching the knife. “He’s been there several times in the past, so you never know.”

“How’re you doing, Okaa-san...? oh, Fumiyo-san!” Ran said in surprise, returning from her room where she’d gone to fetch a bag of shopping. “Are you looking for Conan-kun?”

“Well, yes,” Fumiyo said, chewing her lip slightly. “I haven’t really been able to spend much time with him, and since it was a Sunday I was hoping to go out with him, just a little mother-son time...”

“That would be nice!” Ran said. At the suggestion of Fumiyo being alone with Conan, however, Eri slammed the knife down wrong, and the fish’s head shot through the air, towards Fumiyo.

“Oh, look out!” she cried, reaching for the fish—with the hand holding the knife. It grazed past Fumiyo’s cheek. “Oh, Kami! Fumiyo-san, I’m so sorry, I...” she trailed off, staring at the cut on Fumiyo’s face.

“Fumiyo-san!” Ran said in shock. “Your face is... _peeling_...”

Fumiyo raised her hand to the peeling cut on her cheek, the real skin visible under the cut suddenly going very pale white. “I...”

“That’s a mask,” Eri said, clutching the knife. “You’re not Edogawa Fumiyo! Who are you, really? Why are you here?”

“What’s going on?” Ran said, staring at Fumiyo—or rather, the woman pretending to be her.

The masked woman stared at them, her eyes widening, her hand clutching at her cut cheek. “I didn’t lie to you, not really,” she whispered finally. “I’m so sorry...” then her voice broke, and she ran.

“Wait!” Eri cried, running after her.

Ran was running too. “Okaa-san, what’s going on?” she cried, following Fumiyo—or _whoever_ she was.

“I don’t know, but she’s not Edogawa Fumiyo!” Eri replied. “That’s a mask...”

“But Hattori-kun said...” Ran said, sounding horrified. “That the one who kidnapped Conan-kun was a disguise artist as good as Kid...”

“Which means _she_ might be...” Eri realized, ignoring the people that scattered as she and Ran chased Fumiyo. She vaguely registered that she was still holding the knife. _Well, if that woman intends to harm another hair on that child’s head..._

Fumiyo was surprisingly fast for a woman of her size; but then, as Eri remembered, she was in disguise—she may well be a considerably smaller and fitter woman. And _where have I heard that voice before—?_

“Stop!” Ran cried, reaching out to grab Fumiyo’s arm. The disguised woman jerked out of Ran’s grasp, shedding the long coat—and several rolls of padding—to reveal that she was, indeed, a considerably smaller woman in a pink dress. “Who are you?” Ran demanded. “What do you want with Conan-kun?!”

Eri ran around in front of Fumiyo as she slowed. Fumiyo froze as she too realized that Eri still had the knife. “We want some _answers_ ,” Eri said, pointing the knife at Fumiyo. “We heard that the one who kidnapped Conan-kun was a disguise specialist. Was that you?”

Fumiyo blinked. “No—well, she was, but... that was Sharon-chan, not me. I just wanted... to watch over him...”

“What do you mean?” Ran said, confused. “Sharon... Vineyard?”

 _That voice... it’s not Edogawa Fumiyo’s, it’s..._ Eri frowned. Then she realized where she had seen Fumiyo’s face before—Teitan High, back when she was a student. An English teacher of whom everyone had been fond. And her biggest fan had been...

“I mean... I didn’t lie to you, not really,” Fumiyo said sadly, reaching up under her cheek. “I just...” she pulled the mask down, revealing...

“ _Yuki-chan?!_ ” Eri said in shock.

Ran gasped in surprise. “What... why...?” she muttered. “We thought you’d gone back to America...”

“We...” Yukiko said, looking down. Tears were starting to spill out of her eyes.

“Yukiko? Oh... shouldn’t you ladies hold this conversation inside?”

Eri whipped around in surprise as Yuusaku appeared out of the house behind her—the Kudo’s house, she realized. Yukiko had run for home...

“What is going on?” Eri demanded shakily. “Yuusaku-kun... Yuki-chan... why are you...?”

“We’ll tell you,” Yuusaku said firmly, handing Yukiko a handkerchief and leading her into Agasa-Hakase’s, “inside.”

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“Ojisan?” Conan said, poking the man in the side to wake him up. He was snoring on his desk when Conan had returned, and Eri and Ran were nowhere to be seen. “Ojisan!”

_THUMP_

“Owww...” Conan complained, clutching his head where Kogoro had thumped it. _Let sleeping dogs lie..._

“What do you want, brat?” Kogoro yawned. “You’re back early...”

“It’s five o’ clock, ojisan,” Conan pointed out. “Where’s obasan and Ran-neechan?”

“What, they’re not here?” Kogoro groaned, wandering up the stairs to peer into the apartment. “Weird... maybe they stepped out to buy dinner stuff. Ran’s been trying to teach Eri to cook all day... beating a dead horse, in my opinion...”

“Hmmm...” Conan was disappointed. He had been preoccupied for the rest of the afternoon with the weird images—hallucinations—memories— _whatever_ they were. He’d been confused and jumpy all afternoon, but somehow the thought of coming home and seeing Ran-neechan had been comforting...

But now he was alone in the apartment while Kogoro went back down to the office, grumbling complaints about what they were going to do for dinner. He felt suddenly frightened, and lonely. He kept thinking that he was going to see those cold green eyes...

As he passed the kitchen, he saw the bottle lying on the countertop: an empty liquor bottle probably left there by Kogoro. The label said...

“ _Sayonara, Meitantei...”_

_“Ten seconds, and it’ll blow...”_

_“If we fail, no-one will know anyway... that’s how we work...”_

_“Let’s send her to join her sister...”_

_The cold green eyes and the barrel of a gun sending shivers down his spine because this is a_ killer _, a cold-blooded killer, coming for him and not just him, he’ll kill everyone around him, Agasa-Hakase and his parents and Ran..._

Kogoro ran up to the apartment when he heard the screaming, to find Conan, curled up, staring at someone only he could see, screaming as if he was being torn apart. When he grabbed Conan’s shoulders, shaking his little body in an attempt to snap him out of it, Conan collapsed, passing out, whimpering as his fears turned to nightmares.

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Ai stopped dead in her tracks as she and Agasa-Hakase returned to the lab. Ran and her mother were sitting on the couch across from Yuusaku and Yukiko, all silent, Yukiko a little red-eyed.

“Yuusaku-kun, what’s—?” Agasa-Hakase said in surprise.

“We’re not going anywhere until you tell us exactly why Yuki-chan is masquerading as Conan-kun’s mother,” Eri said firmly. “What happened to the real woman?”

“That’s...” Yukiko said uneasily. Ai felt her heart stop.

 _Crap... they caught her out... how do we get out of this?_ she thought.

“Yuusaku... I think we should...” Yukiko began.

“I know how you feel,” Yuusaku said, rubbing his chin. “And... at this point, maybe you’re right.”

“Yuusaku-kun, you mean you’re going to—?” Agasa-Hakase said in surprise.

“There’s nothing to be gained by hiding it anymore, and it certainly won’t help him to keep them in the dark,” Yuusaku replied.

“ _What_ are you talking about?” Eri asked, evidently confused as she glanced from one to the other.

“Conan-kun,” Ran suddenly said, staring into her cup. “Are you finally going to tell me, once and for all? Tell me whether my crazy suspicions are true or not? After all, you said that you hadn’t lied about why you were there... and you said that you were there to watch over your son...”

“ _No!_ ” Ai screamed angrily. All of the adults stared at the diminutive scientist in shock. “You _can’t_! Dammit, he did _so_ much work, he went through _so much_ , just to keep you safe... have you any _idea_ how much danger _you’re_ all in—” her gaze swept across Agasa, Yuusaku and Yukiko accusingly—“just by knowing that any of this exists _at all_?! Do you have any _idea_ what it would do to him if...” she stared at Ran, tears pooling in her eyes. “The last thing he wants is to see you dead, and you know what?” she said, her voice breaking. “I feel exactly the same. Can’t you just forget about it? The strange coincidences and the weird suspicions... can’t you tell yourself that that’s all it is? Or do you want to destroy everything that he suffered for? And _me..._ I.. I just don’t want to see Them kill you too... like... onee-chan...”

“Ai-chan?” Ran whispered, standing up. Eri was looking somewhere between thoroughly bewildered and deeply thoughtful, as if she didn’t understand a bit of what was going on but would get there if you gave her a few minutes.

“Just _forget_ about it!” Ai sobbed angrily. “Like him... both of you... just forget it, and be _safe..._ please...”

“Ai-kun...” Agasa said nervously, kneeling next to her. To Ai’s surprise, however, it was not his arms that wrapped comfortingly around her, but Ran’s. The older girl held Ai close to her, rubbing her back slightly as Ai tried not to cry.

“You too, right?” she whispered. “Whatever happened to Shinichi happened to you too... you poor girl...”

“I...” Ai could only sob harder. _I don’t want pity! I don’t want acceptance!_ her mind screamed. _All I want is for you to be safe... don’t..._ but somehow, Ran’s embrace reminded her so strongly of her sister’s, of the close hugs every time Akemi came to visit her...

_“Onee-chan! You came again!”_

_“Of course!” Warm arms, holding her tight, making her feel secure, safe. “I missed you.”_

Ai couldn’t resist Ran’s caring any more than she could her sister’s; nor, in the very base of her memory, the almost forgotten arms of her mother. All she remembered was that feeling of unconditional love, of being safe no matter what...

 _Nothing is safe!_ her mind screamed. _Nothing is safe from Them! It’s just a fairy tale, and fairy tales... they don’t ever come true. You_ know _that._

“ _Please_ ,” she whispered through the sobs. “Please, just go...”

“I can’t, Ai-chan,” Ran whispered. “I can’t just abandon someone that I love. I can’t let him go. _I have to know_. I realize that, whatever it is... he wouldn’t keep it from me like this, not if it was nothing major... I know that it must be serious, and dangerous, but... well, I signed up for that the day I met that mystery-otaku.” Out of the corner of her eye, Ai could see a sad, forced smile. Just like...

“ _I’ll be fine, I swear!_ ”

“You’ll die,” Ai whispered.

“I don’t think so,” Ran said softly. “I’m not afraid, Ai-chan. If he died, there wouldn’t be anything here for me more valuable than what’s waiting on the other side. I’m not afraid, Ai-chan... I’d rather get _angry._ ” She held Ai back a little, smiling down at her. “If anyone wants to kill him, they’ll have to go through me... and trust me, it is _not_ going to be easy for them.” Tears were pooling at the corners of her eyes now, and her smile was thin, but in those eyes Ai could see a hardness, a sudden fire that had ignited at the thought that Kudo Shinichi was in danger and was now burning bright and strong. That kind of rage... it was powerful enough to drive fists through concrete, and since Ran could do that _anyway..._

 _“_ I’ve personally well-developed my own crazy suspicions by this point,” she faintly heard Eri mutter, “but I’ll keep them on hold until I’ve heard the story.”

“Please, Ai-chan,” Ran whispered, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. That was what did it for Ai. At that moment, everything was falling apart, and all she wanted to do was the only thing she _could_ do; stop those tears.

“Don’t cry, onee-chan, please,” she whispered. “I mean... Ran-neechan.”

“You can call me onee-chan if you want,” Ran said, smiling comfortingly. “You said you had a sister... and she died...?”

“They killed her,” Ai replied quietly. “I... miss her.”

“I was planning to tell you soon, Ran-chan, if he didn’t regain his memory,” Yukiko sighed, “but... Ai-chan, are you up to it, or should I...?”

“No, I can do it,” Ai insisted. To her surprise, Ran picked her up, cradling her against her side and carrying her over to the couch.

“I don’t know how old you really are,” she said, “but right now, I think anyone could use a hug, hmmm?”

“Th… thank you,” Ai croaked, leaning against her, clinging desperately to her like a frightened child— _Which, right now, I guess I am._  She cleared her throat, clearing away the roughness left by her crying fit. “Okay. It’s kind of a long story—a _really_ long story- but for now I guess we’ll just clear up the most basic point. You know that Edogawa Conan is actually... Kudo Shinichi?”

“Yes,” Ran replied softly. “I think I always knew, somehow, no matter what ‘proof’ he came up with to the contrary...”

“And my real name... is Miyano Shiho,” Ai said. She took a deep breath. “I guess it all starts with the Black Organization, and the drug that they commissioned me to develop. It’s codenamed APTX 4869—The Prototype Detective...”

“I’m going to put a little more tea on,” Agasa muttered, heading for the kitchen. “This really is a _long_ story.”


	57. The Unsaid Truth

“Geez,” Heiji complained, hefting up the shopping bags. “Trust Ofukuro ta ferget alla the stuff fer dinner until half an hour beforehand...”

“It was nice of ya to volunteer ta get it for her, though,” Kazuha said cheerily, swinging her considerably lighter bag.

“Yeah, ‘volunteer’...” Heiji muttered.

Kazuha just giggled, but then the giggles faded into a confused frown. “Heiji? What’s up?”

“Hmm?” Heiji had been glancing over his shoulder, but then he looked back at her. “What?”

“You’ve been kinda nervy today,” she commented. “Ya keep lookin’ around...”

“It’s nothin’,” Heiji said, glancing around slightly again. “I just got this funny feelin’... Like...”

“Like?” Kazuha prompted as he trailed off.

“Like nothin’,” he insisted. “It’s nothin’, really. Jus’ thinkin’ about the kiddo. Might head down ta see how he’s doin’ soon.”

“I’ll come with!” Kazuha said. “I wanna see Ran-chan, too. She’s so worried about the poor kid, an’ last time I called she mentioned that Kudo-kun ain’t called her recently either... I mean, they’re _together_ now, so shouldn’t ‘e call more often? Might be hard to get a flight down or anythin’, though. The temperature’s been droppin’ again and I think we’re due a blizzard soon...”

“Yeah...” Heiji muttered distractedly. More subtly, Kazuha started glancing around too.

 _It’s kinda weird for him ta be this paranoid,_ she thought. _It’s like he’s watchin’ out for somethin’... Is it somethin’ to do with all of that ‘research’ he’s been doin’?_ She glanced over at Heiji, still glaring at his surroundings as if expecting something to leap out of them at him. _Heiji... you ain’t gettin’ yourself into anythin’ over your head, are ya...?_

She shivered, clutching at her charm under her coat, and feverently prayed that he was wearing his.

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“That _was_ a long story,” Eri sighed, sipping at yet another cup of tea. “But it makes a strange amount of sense. I _thought_ there was something oddly familiar about ‘Conan’, the first time that I saw him... well, I guess it was just that I hadn’t seen Shinichi-kun since he was actually that age.”

“I’m so sorry for deceiving you two,” Yukiko sighed. “I just... had to see that he was all right...”

“I should apologize for nearly _stabbing_ you,” Eri laughed, glancing at the knife was now sitting on the coffee table. “Well, we had heard that the one who kidnapped Conan-kun... I mean, Shinichi-kun... was a disguise specialist as good as the Kaitou Kid...”

“She is,” Yukiko sighed sadly. “Well, we all had the same sensei, after all...”

“It’s another very long story,” Yuusaku said to Eri’s questioning look, “and I don’t think we have time for it tonight.” He was looking, with a little smile, at Ai, who seemed to have fallen asleep from exhaustion shortly after finishing the story.

Ran stroked her hair softly. “The poor girl,” she sighed. “She’s been so afraid, all this time... and so lonely...”

“We’d better put her in her bed,” Agasa chuckled, reaching over to pick her up. “She rarely gets a decent night sleep... If I’ve told her once I’ve told her a thousand times, no matter how important the research is, coffee is just no decent substitute for sleep for any length of time...”

“Goodness, look how dark it’s gotten!” Ran gasped. “Okaa-san, we’d better head back. I hope Otou-san and Conan-kun went out for ramen or something, it’s well past dinner time...

“So Ran-chan... what do you intend to do now?” Yukiko asked.

Ran, tying on her shoes, said nothing for a minute. “I’m not sure,” she said quietly. “I mean... now I know for certain, and he doesn’t. I want to just tell him, in the hope that it’ll somehow make him remember, but, well... I don’t know. It might be too much for him to take.”

“It’s really up to you, Ran-chan,” Yukiko said softly. “Even if trying to explain things hurts him, or scares him... if anyone can heal him, it’ll be you.” She smiled, even though there were tears pooling in her eyes. “Please look after him, Ran-chan. He needs you.”

“Don’t worry,” Ran said, hugging the older woman. “Maybe I’ll bring him back here tomorrow, after school. See you then.”

“See you, Ran-chan,” Yukiko called as she and Yuusaku returned to their own house. Ran and Eri started walking down the dark streets towards the agency.

“It’s true, you know,” Eri chuckled. “Ever since he returned, even when his memory was gone... he’s always seemed happiest around you. Haven’t you noticed? He always sticks to you, and always looks so _frightened_ when he isn’t...”

“Yeah,” Ran said sadly. “I just hope he remembers soon... that’s why he’s so confused and frightened. The memories that he’s getting... Shinichi’s memories... he must have realized that Edogawa Conan couldn’t possibly have them…” she paused, frowning, as the agency came into view. There was a white car parked out front. “Isn’t that Dr. Ariade’s car?”

“Did something happen?” Eri said worriedly.

“ _Shinichi_! Ran cried, running up the stairs. She nearly ran into Dr Ariade as he opened the door to the flat.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said in surprise.

“It’s all right,” Ran said quickly. “Did something happen to Shi—to Conan-kun?”

“He collapsed,” Dr Ariade explained. “Your father said he heard him screaming, and came up here to find him have some kind of fit in the kitchen... then he passed out.”

“Kami above,” Eri gasped, covering her mouth in horror.

Ran felt her heart stop. “Is he... all right?” she croaked, her throat suddenly drying.

“Well, he hasn’t woken up yet,” the doctor replied, glancing over at the bedroom. “I suspect he had some kind of flashback... either there was some large-scale recall which overwhelmed him, or...” he looked down, fidgeting with his glasses. “…he remembered something truly terrifying. Possibly to do with his kidnapping.”

Ran was done there. She ran through to the bedroom, faintly hearing her mother talking to her father and the doctor. She stood in the doorway for a long moment, staring at the little body on the futon.

Her father must have removed his glasses; his sleeping face seemed so peaceful, and without the fake glass the resemblance to Shinichi was truly unmissable. She knelt down next to him, brushing his unruly little bangs out of his face.

 _Shinichi... you were here the whole time..._ she thought, feeling tears pool in her eyes. _You didn’t leave me alone, after all..._

When she’d been most upset, most lonely, Conan had always tried so hard to cheer her up... and Shinichi always seemed to call just when she needed him most. Because he was _there_ , watching her wait and worry, and he’d done all that he could to stop her from worrying; all he could to keep her safe from...

She frowned as she remembered something, standing up again and heading into the kitchen. Her mother was cleaning up in there, and she could hear her father talking to Dr Ariade downstairs. She walked straight over to the countertop where a couple of her father’s empty liquor bottles had been left.

“Ran? What’s wrong?” her mother asked as Ran picked up a bottle that had been lying on the edge of the countertop.

“Gin,” she said, showing the bottle to her. “That’s what Ai-chan... Shiho-chan... said his name was, right? This killer that... did this to him. His codename was Gin. Shinichi could have seen that and remembered... that’s why...” _That’s why he was screaming..._

“Well, we’ll see what happens when he wakes up,” Eri sighed, rinsing off the chopping board. “What I’m more worried about is having to explain to your father that all of his ‘Nemuri No Kogoro’ deductions weren’t his at all...”

“Awww....” Ran giggled.

Eri pinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she said hotly.

“What’s what supposed to mean?” Kogoro grumbled, wandering back in. “He said to call him back if there’s any major problems when the brat wakes up, not that he anticipates any... anyway, what’s got _you_ so hot and bothered?” he asked Eri.

“It’s nothing!” she insisted, blushing more as she turned back to the sink.

“You wouldn’t go that colour for _nothing_ ,” he prodded. Ran rolled her eyes as she went back to watch over Shinichi.

 _It’s a little weird, thinking of him as Shinichi now for certain,_ she thought with a little smile. _Is it too much to hope that when he wakes up, he’ll have remembered...?_

“Mmmm...” Shinichi moaned, closed eyes twitching and a frown forming as he started to wake up. Ran placed a hand on his forehead, smoothing away the little wrinkles, and he calmed before opening his eyes.

“Ran... neechan?” he said uncertainly. Ran looked into his eyes and felt her heart break. She hated seeing him look so lost, so fragile, so _scared_...

“How are you feeling… Conan-kun?” she said, also a little hesitantly, unsure of who he thought he was.

“I...” he rubbed his eyes. “It’s all _wrong_ , Ran-neechan...”

“What is?” she asked gently.

“When I start to remember things...” he whispered. “It’s _wrong_... I remember... things that I _know_ I shouldn’t know, or... scary things...”

“What do you mean?” Ran asked. He looked frightened, his face paling, but he swallowed and found the voice to tell her.

“I remembered _you_ , Ran-neechan,” he said quietly, “but you were so little... and you’re ten years older than me, I couldn’t have known you when you were that little, but... and I remembered a man, a killer... and a dead woman... and...”

“Memories that you don’t think are yours,” Ran finished softly.

He nodded feverently. “What’s going on, Ran-neechan?” he whispered.

“It’s...” Ran hadn’t been planning to tell him, not yet, but... he looked so afraid, and she knew she couldn’t just brush it off. He wouldn’t buy it. He was as sharp as ever; sharp enough to know that something was very, very wrong. “They _are_ your memories.”

“But...” Shinichi muttered, confused.

Ran held a finger up to silence him. “Listen, Conan-kun...” she said, keeping her voice calm. “It’s... kind of hard to explain, but those _are_ your memories. They can’t be Edogawa Conan’s, no... but that’s because you’re not Edogawa Conan.”

“What do you mean?” he said, sitting up with a frown.

“I only just found out myself,” she said, taking his hand to soothe him, “but it’s a pseudonym. The killer that you mentioned... you remembered him when you saw the Gin bottle, didn’t you?” his inadvertent flinch at the word “Gin” answered her question for her. “He tried to kill you, two years ago. You escaped, but you had to hide... so you took on a false name and hid here.”

“That’s why...” he muttered. “Okay... so who am I, really?”

“Your real name...” Ran closed her eyes for a moment, steeling herself. “Your real name... is Kudo Shinichi.”

Shinichi blinked, staring at her. “I thought Shinichi-niichan was your age...”

“He is... I mean, you are, really,” Ran said, speaking fast in an effort to explain. “But he tried to kill you by using a poison and... it went wrong. You... shrank.”

“What?!” Shinichi said. “That’s impossible...”

“That’s what I thought, but...” Ran whispered. “I know you, Shinichi, and the signs are all there...”

“No way!” Shinichi yelled, jumping to his feet, now looking even more frightened. “So I’m actually some shrunken adult who’s being hunted down by murderers? What is this, a sci-fi manga?”

“Shinichi, please calm down, I know it’s frightening...” Ran begged, but the use of his name just seemed to confuse and frighten him even more; and before Ran had realized what was happening, he ran out of the door. Ran sat there, staring at the door for a long moment, before grabbing his coat and shoes and running after him.

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_No way! That’s bizarre, impossible, it’s... no way!_

Conan kept running, though his feet froze. His head was spinning. First the confusing memories; then the dark, frightening ones; and now this...

He stumbled down a path in Beika Park and _Ran was in front of him, his fingers cupping her chin, and her eyes hardened with some resolve as she stepped up on her tip-toes and..._

_No way!_

He stumbled again, suddenly shivering. He’d run out of pure fear, and baka that he was hadn’t brought a coat or shoes. It was _freezing..._

“For all of your creepy brains, sometimes you’re just a stupid kid, you know?”

Conan squeaked in surprise as someone picked him up, wrapped an adult’s coat around him and dropped him on a park bench. Whoever it was sat down next to him. He couldn’t see the guy’s face because he was wearing a dark baseball cap with a grey hoodie pulled up over it, but he seemed young. And... _familiar._

“Don’t suppose you remember me either?” he commented.

Conan shook his head. “You seem familiar, kind of...” he said, then sighed heavily. “But I don’t know what I remember at the moment.”

“Here, take my card.” Conan reached out to take the card. As he pulled it away, a little string of flags followed. “Damn... I only carry those things out of professional habit. Here.” The flags vanished. Conan peered at the card. It resembled a playing card, but instead of any of the usual four symbols in the middle there was just an odd little drawing, like a smiley face with a hat, a monocle and an unusually demented grin. At the corner, instead of a normal number, was the number 1412. The number and drawing stirred something in his mind.

“International Criminal number 1412...” he said thoughtfully. “The Kaitou Kid?”

“The only and not quite only,” the guy said, a dove popping out of his sleeve and sitting on his hand. “And sometimes not any more sure of who I am than you are right now. You wanna talk about it?”

“... I probably should have talked about it to Ran... neechan,” Conan said uncertainly. “But I don’t know... It’s funny, but even though nobody else on the planet knows anything about the Kaitou Kid, I would have thought that _you_ at least would know who you are...”

“Call me Kaito,” the Kid said, stroking the dove. “Spelling optional.”


	58. The Name Game

“So...” Conan said, a little uncertain about the fact that he was talking to one of the most wanted criminals in the world. “Why... why are you here?”

“I was stalking you,” Kaito said idly. “I do that with a lot of my free time recently. Stalk people, I mean. Just... watching out for them.”

“You were watching out for me... because...” Conan was still surprised by the enormity of it; that this whole time, he’d been walking around with a target on his back... “Because someone’s out to kill me.”

“Yeah, and They want me dead too,” Kaito commented. “So I figured, since we’re in the same boat... I only found out that They wanted your hide too recently, though. And then I kinda accidentally on purpose overheard your conversation with the Ojousama a minute ago.”

“They?” Conan said in surprise. “Ran-neechan only mentioned one guy... you mean there’s a whole _group_ —?!”

“I call ‘em the Shadow Syndicate, some call Them the Black Organization,” Kaito said, glancing down at Conan, though his face was still indiscernible in the gloom and under the hat, “hell knows what they call themselves. Listen, I know this is kinda overwhelming, but right now, you need to remember that you’re not some frightened little kid. You are a smart, brave and downright _brilliant_ kid, and in fact if what that girl said is true you’re actually a smart, brave and brilliant _guy_ , who has escaped these guys for two and a half years, a feat only topped by—well, me. And even as a kid, you’ve had Them over a barrel more than once. You’re confused and frightened right now because you think you ought to be, but if you let that brilliant to the point of being a pain in the ass brain kick back in, you’ll know it makes sense. Things were wrong, weren’t they, when you were told your name, your age, when you first saw your face in a mirror... it was wrong, wasn’t it?”

Conan stared down at his bare and slightly blue feet, curling up to tuck them under the coat. “You know a lot... and if the shrinking thing is true, do you not find that more than a little odd?”

“Stalker, remember?” Kaito chuckled. “And as for your question... you don’t fully comprehend who you’re talking to yet, do you? Shrinking is one of the _less_ weird things that happens in my world, both onstage and off. Listen, I don’t mean to sound callous about how freaked out you are, but I want these bastards to go down as bad as you did, so I need that brilliant pain in the ass Kudo Shinichi back. As a frightened, stupid kid, sooner or later you’ll give yourself away, They’ll kill you, which doesn’t do you or me any good.” He stood up. “So?”

“So...” Conan frowned. “I... You’re right,” he sighed. “It’s just still all... a lot to take in, that’s all. But... you were right. It was all _wrong_ , and somehow... now it makes a little more sense.”

“Exactly how I feel, pal,” Kaito sighed. “Keep the coat, but go home soon, all right? I think you’ve put that girl through enough already without disappearing... _again_.”

“Hold on,” Conan said, standing up on the bench, his height now almost equalling Kaito’s. “You do what you do alone, don’t you? I mean... can I talk to you again?”

“You asking me out?” Kaito joked.

“Don’t be stupid,” Conan grumbled. “I mean... I don’t know. There was something I knew about you, I think, something important, but... “

“Anything we have to offer each other concerning Them,” Kaito said, “Is entirely dependent on your recovering your memory. If that happens... I’ll know. If not... see you at the next heist.”

“Wha—” Conan began, but was cut off as _dozens_ of doves suddenly flew past him, towards Kaito...

... and then they flew away again, and Kaito was gone, as if the birds had carried him away.

“Shinichi... Conan-kun? Whichever? Where are you?”

“Ran?” he called, turning to her worried voice, and then realized what he’d called her. _It feels more natural without the ‘neechan’, doesn’t it...?_

“There you are!” she gasped in surprise, spotting him standing on the bench and running up to him. She was carrying his coat and shoes. “I was looking all over...”

“I’m really sorry, Ran,” he said, sitting down again. “Sorry I ran from you again...”

“Shi...nichi...?” she said tentatively, once she’d realized that he was using her name with no suffix. “Your memory...?”

“Not really... just bare flashes,” he said, turning the playing card over in his hands. “It’s just something that the Kid said...”

“The Kaitou Kid?” Ran said in surprise, sitting down next to Shinichi and looking around. “He was here? Is this his jacket?”

“Yeah... he was here, and we talked,” Shinichi replied. “Look... I’m really sorry I ran off. That was such a scared, childish thing to do, and...” he gave her a little smile. “I’m not actually a child, am I? It’s weird, but if I just think about it, instead of freaking out like a frightened child, it makes sense...”

“Are you really all right?” Ran asked, handing him his shoes.

“Not yet,” he said, starting to pull his shoes on, “but I’m getting there. It might be easier to get my memories back now that I know what I’m looking for. It’s just all... overwhelming...”

“I know,” Ran said, handing him his coat and picking up Kid’s. “It was for me, when Ai-chan and Agasa-Hakase told me... Ai-chan’s like you, you know. Shrunken.”

“Explains a lot about her,” he muttered.

Ran giggled, smiling more naturally. “It might help to talk to her,” she suggested. “And your parents. Although the woman who said she was your mother actually _was_ your mother, in disguise... we’ll go over and talk to them tomorrow, after school, all right?”

“All right,” he said, leaping down from the bench. “Heh, at least now I know to _act_ like a little kid. I thought something was up... but when we’re with people who know, I mean...” he gave her a sheepish smile. “Can you... call me Shinichi? It feels more... right. I might be able to remember stuff more easily.”

“Of course,” Ran said with a smile, taking his hand. Shinichi smiled back at her.

Ran slung the coat under her arm, planning to hang onto it until he presumably stole it back, then glanced down at it with a frown. “Is there something in the pocket?” she said, rummaging around for whatever had _rustled_.

It was a little piece of card. Ran unfolded it, reading the message aloud.

_I shall bypass the blind queen to take her false king awash with blood, before the circling ravens can strike._

_Kaitou Kid_

Then there was the demented but posh smiley face, like the one on the playing card.

“A heist notice!” Ran gasped. Almost before he realized it, Shinichi’s brain was whirring, analyzing the note, staring up at the sky.

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Kaito idly whistled a _Lupin III_ theme tune as he wandered down the dark streets. He was slightly weirded out, but what he’d said to Conan—no, _Kudo_ —was true. A jewel crying tears of immortality was pretty much on a par with adults shrinking into little kids, although admittedly both were still so far off of even _his_ weirdness scale that they had shot out of the top and were having a picnic on the moon.

Speaking of which, he wondered if the kid would figure out his riddle. After all, that powerful mind should still be intact even if the memories weren’t; that powerful mind that had so easily caught him out two years ago, the very first time that he had been caught by that piercing glare, adult’s eyes in a child’s head; the first time that he’d come across that strange child whom he had always felt was so much more...

He hadn’t _meant_ to overhear Mori Ran talking to the boy, but he’d just thought he’d check in on the kid to see how his memory was doing. He had seen Dr Ariade running from his car to the apartment and heard Mori Kogoro’s account of how “Conan” had collapsed, screaming. After that, he hadn’t been able to tear himself away from perching by the window, listening in, praying that the boy’s mind wasn’t falling apart completely. And then he’d heard...

 _We really are alike,_ he mused with a little half-smile. _Hiding behind our masks, lying to those whom we least want to hurt... But Mori... she forgave him just like_ that _. Admittedly, she didn’t utterly despise Edogawa Conan to start with, but he_ did _hurt her, I’ve seen enough of them over the past couple of years to tell that. And she forgave him, because he was hurt too, and because... because she loves him._ He had seen that, too, on Boxing Day— _Come to that, how come he was full size then?_ —when he and Aoko had run into the two; they had clearly been very close, and he’d _seen_ their expressions when they looked at each other. He’d spent most of the time surreptitiously watching Kudo, after all.

The shrinking story, whatever the details behind it, made sense; and it said a lot for how Kaito’s world had been for nearly three years now that something like _that_ made perfect sense. But...

 _The fact remains that he still doesn’t really remember anything,_ Kaito sighed, remembering Kudo’s plea to talk. _There’s nothing he can tell me, and there’s little that I could tell him that he would understand. For now... When he gets his memory back, I’ll know. And anyone else ready to talk... ought to be at the heist._

He sighed heavily, tipping his head back to stare up at the sky. _I’m tired... I just want... to take off the mask..._ he looked down again, his jaw clenching even though a cheeky smile was forming at the impending mayhem.

_Then let’s get this over with._

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“ _I thought you weren’t going to leave Tokyo..._ ”

“I’m sorry, I got so _bored._ Anyway, I thought I’d go back Gin up. After all, you know what his track record for silencing this kind of person is like...”

“ _That was a fluke. I trust him to do the job._ ”

“We still need to be careful, you know. We don’t have anyone in their police any more, and the Tokyo Met seems set to go the same way... and if they catch our people there...”

“ _Schnapps is handling that._ ”

“Really? Well, he’s playing a risky game...”

“ _He often does, but at this stage of the game I don’t really care as long as his devil’s luck holds out. Besides, some of Snakebite’s people are backing him up._ ”

“Is that so? I suppose they don’t have anything better to do until the Kuroba boy resurfaces.”

“ _He’ll be back soon, no doubt. That diamond that will return from Europe soon... it’s a highly attractive proposition. Snakebite is already planning to acquire it, and given the Kaitou Kid’s track record, that makes it almost certain that he’ll be there._ ”

“And given his track record, he’ll no doubt slip us again.”

“ _Not this time. Snakebite’s increasingly noticeable failures have finally caught widespread police attention, so he’s going for broke. He’s going to try and make it look like a lowlife Yakuza deal..._ ”

“Finally, a plan within his intelligence.”

“ _I would prefer if you were in Tokyo on the heist. Snakebite knows that there will be... watchers for this heist. He knows the consequences for getting caught... he’s carried them out more than once himself. Which means that he’ll have contingency plans for the normal methods, such as snipers. So your particular brand of subtly duplicity will be... useful._ ”

“I understand,” she said, a little smile curving. “Not to worry. I’ll always be there to keep an eye on things.”

“ _I know. It’s where you go in between times that worries me._ ”

“Now, now,” she laughed. “Have you really anything to fear from _me_?”

“ _I have nothing to fear from_ anyone _. You ought to know that._ ”

“So very well,” she replied, the smile turning sad. “Well, I’ll be back soon, never to fear. Gin is so _very_ efficient, after all.”

“ _Good._ ” Vermouth blew a little kiss into the phone before hanging up. She then redonned her helmet and booted her motorbike back to life.

 _Hmmm... so there’ll be a heist soon, eh?_ she thought. _I wonder if my darling **Silver Bullet** will be there..._

“ _His own memories are confusing and frightening him..._ ”

That had been one of the many times that she had been glad that she’d picked up more than disguise skills from Kuroba Toichi. She’d been utterly floored by the intimation that the boy’s memories _could_ return. She’d used Amnesial many times before, and no-one had ever remembered a thing, no matter how many prompts or triggers those around them had presented. More than one had simply gone completely Jon Doe, starting afresh, and had died never knowing who they really were.

But Kudo...

 _I told him that story thinking that he’d never remember,_ she mused. _I seem to have fallen into the comic supervillain trap... revealing my whole evil plan thinking that the hero will never get to tell it... but the hero always wins in the end. Even the antihero. Well, things will certainly get more interesting if he_ does _remember everything. Will he know... will he realize... what to do about_ it _?_ _Or will he have to find..._

She thought of the only person whom she had ever told the story to. She did not strike up friendships easily, mainly through choice; there seemed little point. Fujimine Yukiko had been one of the rare exceptions; the sheer, bubbly force of the younger woman’s friendly personality was strangely irresistible, even to a self-proclaimed hard-bitten, murdering bitch like Vermouth. Kuroba Toichi, too, had been an odd exception. Possibly it was because she’d put the crime on hiatus while studying Toichi’s disguise skills, or maybe...

Even then, she had sensed...

But before then, there had been one other person. Vermouth often picked up kids with possibilities. She’d briefly entertained the thought of taking Kudo back to the Syndicate once his memories were wiped, but there were just so many levels on which it wouldn’t work, not least the fact that, memories or no, he would never be a killer. He just _couldn’t_ , any more than he could be an elephant. But other kids, desperate kids, kids with a weaker or more easily redirected sense of justice... Vermouth took them in, fed them, clothed them, put a roof over their heads... and then taught them to kill. Most eventually grew suspicious of her, as Chianti was a prime example, as they absorbed the creed of the Syndicate... Anokata’s creed. But this girl, Otoshi Hanako... she had remained eternally grateful to Vermouth, and Vermouth had been fond of the girl, in an odd way. She’d gone to Hanako’s wedding, for Kami’s sake. Hanako had been a skilled fighter, and had often asked to accompany Vermouth. And she’d had that odd little sentimentality of always closing her victims’ eyes.

“ _I know I should just get off the scene as soon as they’re dead, but I just like to do it. It looks like they’re sleeping. There’s nothing wrong with just laying them down to sleep. I bet they have the most fantastic dreams._ ”

In the end, it was dreams that had done it. Hanako had had another little oddity; her dreams. She saw things that would happen, warnings that she could pass on. And one night, she had seen _that_ dream, and that was what had bound her and Vermouth together, indivisibly and eternally.

 _“Don’t you realize what it means? It’s a prophecy. It’s a really powerful one. Nothing can stop this one. If you try to resist, it’ll find a way... and you will pay the price._ ”

“ _I’ve known that for a long time, Hanako-chan. That’s why I figure; why not just help it happen?”_

 _“I knew you’d say that! What can I do to help?_ ”

 _I’m sorry, Hanako-chan,_ Vermouth thought with a bittersweet smile. _I’m sorry that you paid the price... but in the end, you and your husband never said a word, did you? You protected me... and your daughter’s alive too, I know it. She knows. She knows the secrets that I shared with you. Thank you. I’m sorry that you paid for the dream, but I can still make it come true..._

That dream would come true, she had vowed over an empty prison cell. The dream of the red sun and the angels and the darkness...

And the silver bullet.


	59. Poison

Heiji stared a little gloomily at the sky as he and Kazuha walked along the streets of Osaka. The sky was thick with grey clouds, and a snowstorm seemed imminent. The roads were fairly quiet, almost no-one else around—most people were getting indoors as the temperature dropped rapidly.

“I’m gonna check out plane tickets ta Tokyo fer Sunday,” he commented. “Gonna see how the kiddo an’ Hakuba an’ the rest of ‘em are doin’...”

“When did you an’ _Hakuba_ become so friendly?” Kazuha said in surprise.

 _Since we realized that we’re both tryin’ ta pull pals outta the same deep shit,_ Heiji didn’t say. Instead he just said, “eh, the guy’s tolerable when ya get used to ‘im.”

“Mind if I come with? I wanna see Ran-chan,” Kazuha asked.

“Sure, no prob,” Heiji said, though he was a little worried about bringing her to what seemed the epicentre of the chaos. “I’ll ask fer two tickets...”

“Great!” Kazuha said. “Ahh!” She had jumped a little from excitement at the impending trip, and her hairpin had fallen out.

“Hey, it’s the one I gave ya,” Heiji said, picking it up and handing it to her.

She blushed a little. “Yeah,” she admitted. “I like it. It’s so pretty... the sakura kinda reminds me of Kyoto...”

“Yeah?” Heiji said. “The sakura viewin’ there really is somethin’...”

That reminds me...” Kazuha said thoughtfully. “You saw her there, didn’t ya? Your first love?” She sounded a little hesitant.

“Oh yeah,” Heiji remembered. “Did I ever tell ya that story?”

“Not really,” she admitted. “I just read it in that interview... what happened, exactly? What’d she look like?”

Heiji was suddenly tongue-tied. It should be easy, right? After all, that day was still crystal clear in his memory. It’d be easy to give Kazuha the details, and it wouldn’t take her long to realize that it was _her..._

But somehow, the thought of telling Kazuha that _she_ had been his first love made Heiji nervous enough to sweat in the freezing street. Still, there didn’t seem to be anybody else around...

“Well...” he began, then stopped. Something was nagging at the back of his brain, and a second later he realized why. There _was_ someone else on the otherwise empty street. And whoever it was had just pressed a gun into his shoulderblades.

“All right, lovebirds,” said a cold, gravelly voice, “don’t move a muscle.”

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“Toyama-keibu! Otaki yelled, running down the road to the cordoned-off house where the man in question had been investigating a murder last night.

“Otaki? What’s the problem?” the Chief Detective asked, pausing halfway through unlocking his car door.

“You were closer than Hattori-keibu...” Otaki panted. “Look... our bugs in Saku’s place were jammed, but one of the Techs found a way to bypass the white noise, then he turned the volume right up on what was left, and... look, where’s Hei-chan?”

“He and Kazuha will be getting out of school right now...” Toyama said, then stopped as a fear suddenly gripped him. “Otaki, what was on the tape?”

“We heard an unfamiliar voice, probably the executive that he was meeting,” Otaki said. “He asked ‘Who is it?’ and the response was...” he gulped, face paling. “Saku said, ‘ _Chief’s son, Hattori Heiji, Eighteen. Dark-skinned. Been hanging around the police station since he was born, practically. That’s how he did it—he has influence over cops, knows what cops he can trust, protected by his father’s influence... he’s been seen snooping around places that we neutralized after that Kid debacle..._ ’ It’s the people that Hei-chan was investigating... _They know._ ”

“Dammit!” Toyama tried to dial his daughter’s mobile, but a couple of rings in he got a “number cannot be reached” message. Heiji’s phone didn’t ring at all. Toyama felt a powerful fear, for the idiot boy that was his best friend’s son and his daughter’s best friend and for his daughter, who would have walked home with him, who would be involved if anyone was coming after him, if anything happened to him...

“Hattori-kun,” he said a minute later, having dialled the chief in the feverent hope that they were at his house and both of their phone batteries had run out, “do you know where Heiji-kun and Kazuha are?”

“ _They’ll be walking home from school about now, won’t they? I know that Heiji isn’t home yet..._ ”

“According to Otaki, a couple of techs got past the white noise on our bugs in Saku’s apartment,” Toyama said. “There was a short information exchange before the executive... Gin... shot Saku.”

“ _Information?_ ”

“Heiji-kun,” Toyama said. “They know it was him. They know he caught the infiltrators. They are _after_ him, Hattori-kun, and neither he nor Kazuha are picking up their phones...”

“ _Dammit! I’ll put out an alert, find out if anyone’s seen them, mention that it’s in connection with the flushout. We know there’s none left now, thanks to those documents. I’ll head out to the forest to the north soon..._ ”

“The forest?”

“ _It’s elementary. If he knows who Heiji is, he knows who I am. Obvious murders of the children of important police officers warrant unnecessary trouble. But there’s a snowstorm coming, if they just knocked out Heiji... and probably Kazuha, if she’s with him... and left them in the forest..._ ”

“Shit... I’ll head out too.” He hung up, glaring at Otaki.

“Tell me you have a car with you,” he said.

“Moving out now,” Otaki said, leading the way.

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“Alright, lovebirds,” a cold, gravelly voice said. “Don’t move a muscle.”

Heiji froze, not because he’d been told to, but simply because it was his natural reaction to the unfortunately familiar sensation of the barrel of a gun pressing into his back.

“Wha—?” Kazuha said, starting to turn around. Heiji reached out his arm to stop her. It wasn’t quite the guns that made him do it, but it was more down to the fact that, in a corner of his brain, some alarm bells were ringing. His detective instincts were screaming like a siren, and what they were screaming was: “ _Armed, murdering bastard in the immediate vicinity!_ ”

Kazuha’s phone rang. “Hand it over,” the cold voice demanded. Heiji caught Kazuha’s eye and nodded slightly. She pulled it out, but a hand in a black glove grabbed it, switching it off and sticking it back in her pocket. He repeated the same process with Heiji’s phone.

 _I see,_ he thought. _When we’re found, it’ll just be that we switched off our phones, no sinister play... that’s what they’re thinking..._

“Now, we’re going to take a little walk,” the cold voice said pleasantly, or at least what was probably its _idea_ of pleasantly, “and discuss the consequences of curiosity.”

“Specifically,” said a second, deeper voice, “the consequences for nosy teens who get too curious about electrics. And antiques. And pharmaceuticals.” Heiji felt the gun in his back nudge him slightly, pushing him on. He took a step forwards. Kazuha didn’t move.

“Move it, girl,” the cold voice hissed. Kazuha still didn’t move.

“Heiji...” she said, and he could hear the fear in her voice. Her eyes were wide, her face pale. Her arm was trembling under him hand. This girl could break a man’s arm like a chopstick, but perhaps she felt it too; the very certain knowledge that if she tried that now, she’d be dead before she touched either of them. For the first time, Heiji felt terrified. He’d _had_ to stick his nose in it, he wasn’t cautious enough, and now Kazuha was getting dragged along for the ride...

He dropped his hand down her arm to grasp her hand. Giving it a gentle squeeze, he forced himself to smile. “C’mon, Kazuha,” he said, “It’s all right. I guess these guys _really_ need ta talk ta me. Come on. It’s OK.”

Kazuha didn’t get any colour back in her face, but he saw her eyes change as she steeled herself and nodded. As she gripped his hand back, he could feel her fighting the trembling, although it didn’t stop.

“C’mon, kids,” the deep voice sneered, “You’ll have time to cuddle later. All the time in the world.” Heiji felt another prod in his spine from the gun. Together, they began to walk.

They kept to residential backstreets, following the directions of the voices attached to the guns, who were walking so closely that even if there had been anyone around, they probably wouldn’t have been able to see the guns pressed to Heiji and Kazuha’s backs.

Light snowflakes began drifting down as they started crossing a bridge. Ten feet below, a snow-swollen river was rushing by, cold but moving too fast to freeze. Heiji didn’t bother trying to remember what it was called—instead, he began summoning up measurements, particularly depth. He started estimating how deep it would be, this swollen, particularly in the centre.

“You sure about that? Perfect,” the deep voice said. It took a second for Heiji to register that this comment wasn’t directed at him—they had slowed to allow one of the guns to talk into a cellphone. “No, I didn’t. What? What does she thinks she’s... Fine. No, of course not. Kids randomly turning up with bullets in the brain is enough trouble when they’re _not_ cops’ kids, for Kami’s sake. Now, if a couple of teenagers turn up in a forest after a blizzard, dead, frozen, no obvious marks...”

Heiji heard Kazuha inhale sharply. “The cops’ll test for poison anyway,” he commented. _Knew it,_ he thought, estimating where the centre of the river was. _They weren’t gonna shoot us unless they had to, otherwise they woulda done it back in the street... Makes this a bit easier to risk..._

“Lucky for us this stuff’s untraceable, eh?” the deep voice chuckled. “By the way, Aniki... seems _she’s_ here. And she says that the cops just flared up over something, although since another in what seems to be a string of serial murders was found, she thinks that it might be over the murderer... still, there’s a dragnet that we need to watch for.”

“What does she think she’s—hey now,” the cold voice said as Heiji’s pace slowed marginally, “don’t try anything funny. You aren’t the first nosy kids we’ve silenced...”

Heiji squeezed Kazuha’s hand tighter. “Sorry, don’t plan on joining the club,” he said, throwing his body backwards, smashing into the hand holding the gun, knocking it loose from the hand that gripped it. Turning to see his attackers for the first time, he saw a tall, powerfully built man in dark glasses—likely the owner of the deeper voice—cursing and shoving his cellphone into his pocket while raising his gun. Using the inertia of his leap backwards, he threw Kazuha forwards and over the handrail. She screamed as he let go of her hand, dropping her into the river. A second later, a bullet grazed the air where her head had been.

“Shit! Damn you, kid!”

As soon as his hands were free, Heiji had tried to grab the gun that the cold-voiced man—now revealed to have very long, silvery-blond hair and eyes that set the alarms in Heiji’s brain ringing again—had dropped, but the man had quick reflexes; he already had half a grip on the gun with his left hand, and wasn’t letting go. Over his shoulder, Heiji saw the deep-voiced man firing repeatedly into the river. Heiji vaguely remembered something from physics about refraction of light affecting how well you could aim at something underwater. He prayed that it was a significant effect. The blond used Heiji’s moment of distraction to throw a powerful knee into Heiji’s ribs, followed by a slightly less powerful foot into somewhere that was nevertheless arguably more painful.

No doubt about it; the guy was a self-evident bastard.

Reflexively, Heiji left go of the gun. To his shock, so did the blond. As Heiji inhaled sharply through his mouth, trying to refill his lungs, the bastard’s right hand was over his throat and the now-gunless left hand was over his mouth, shoving something down his throat. Heiji automatically swallowed something small and smooth.

A pill.

 _Poison_.

Instantly, Heiji felt a burning pain rip through him. He howled as he fell away from the men. He vaguely saw the blond stooping to pick up his gun, and the one in the glasses turning to face him. Had he hit Kazuha, or had she been swept away...?

Heiji pulled himself upright on the handrail, but as another wave of pain submerged him, pure fire pouring into his bones, he toppled over, into the river.

Even the near-frozen water wasn’t cold enough to stop the pain. He was hot. He was _burning_...

Several small, fast somethings hit the water around him, but his mind was too consumed by the fire to notice, not even when they stopped. Cold water filled his lungs when he breathed, so why were they still full of fire?

He reached out desperately, thrashing in the water, trying _anything_ to subdue the pain, even a little. His hand struck against a rock and he grabbed in, pulling himself upwards and onto a banking of frozen earth. The cold air struck his soaking skin and hair, freezing him, and it wasn’t enough. The fire just got hotter. Dammit, he was _dying_...

He tried to crawl forwards, into the trees, desperate to find someone, _anyone_. Someone had to know how to make it stop. But movement was growing harder as his sodden clothes continued to grow heavier, and his bones were melting, and he couldn’t support himself...

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“I see you two are doing all right after your near-death experience,” Yumi chuckled, clapping her hands onto Miwako and Takagi’s shoulders. Miwako jumped in surprise, stepping back from the coffee maker where she’d just been preparing a fresh pot.

“You can get a cup first,” she said, waving to Shiratori, who had been hovering at the head of the little clique of officers that always formed around fresh coffee. “Did you hear about the autopsy on my car, Yumi?”

“It’s not as bad as you thought,” Yumi said, lowering her voice. “There was still visible evidence of tampering. But it was still bad enough to warrant claiming a new car on expenses.”

“Tampering,” Takagi muttered. “I guess we _are_ onto something—”

“Shiratori-keibu!”

Miwako and Takagi both whipped around to see a couple of officers catching Shiratori as he collapsed, eyes bulging, clutching at his throat and croaking in pain. Color was rapidly leeching from his skin.

“Call an ambulance, Takagi-kun!” Miwako yelled, kneeling down next to Shiratori as his eyes rolled up into his head. “CPR, now!”

“He just wiped a spilled drop and licked his finger,” one cop said, picking up a dropped cup of coffee. “Kami above... what’s _in_ this?”

“Somebody send it down to forensics!” another man yelled. “And Sato-san... I’m sorry, but you’ll have to stay here. You were the last person to touch the coffee maker and all...”

“I know,” Miwako whispered, pounding on Shiratori’s chest, keeping his heart beating—he was barely breathing, but she didn’t dare try mouth-to-mouth. She and Takagi shared a look as he yelled for an ambulance.

_This wasn’t meant for him._

_It was meant for us._


	60. Paranoia

“It seems that Shiratori will live, sir. Thankfully, it was not a major dose that he received, and the quick CPR of his colleagues...”

“Well, that’s good,” Hakuba Mamoru sighed. “But the fact remains, Yamashiro, that someone poisoned a _police_ coffee maker... so how...?”

“Here’s a list of those present,” his deputy said, handing over said list, “but of course nobody was paying much attention to _who_ was at the coffee maker, so long as there was coffee... They never suspected something like this _inside_ a police station.”

“They’ve all been searched?” Hakuba demanded.

“Yes, sir. Nothing’s turned up, although we may have a motive...”

“Motive?”

“Yes, sir. The last person using the coffee machine before Shiratori was Sato. You remember? Her car was sabotaged the day before yesterday...”

“So it was merely a straying arrow?” Hakuba commented. “We’ll need to strike soon against the infiltrators, dammit... with Hattori’s information, two more prefectures have flushed out their rats, and there seems to have been a sweep of frightened resignations elsewhere.”

“When do you want to strike, sir?” Yamashiro asked.

“By the end of the week. I’ve got some good information from my sources, and I believe that we’ve located them all.”

“Don’t count your chickens before they’ve hatched, sir,” Yamashiro cautioned casually as he left.

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“ _Toyama-keibu, something’s been sighted in the river! It may be a body..._ ”

“Brake, Otaki,” Toyama demanded as the message came through on the radio. They screeched to a halt halfway across the bridge. Toyama was about to get on the radio to ask for the other officer’s position, but one look in the water told him that there was no need. He could see the limp shape floating downstream towards him.

A limp shape in a familiar coat.

“Kazuha!” he cried, running along the bridge to climb down the banking.

“T-Toyama-keibu!” Otaki cried.

Toyama ignored him, fording into the freezing water to catch his daughter as she floated past. Luckily, the current was pushing her nearer to the shore, so he didn’t have to swim to get to her. He pulled her onto the banking as Otaki ran down with emergency blankets from the police car. He threw one over his shoulders and wrapped the rest around his daughter, who was now shivering violently. She was alive. “Hattori,” Toyama said into his radio, “I’ve found Kazuha, floating in the river. No sign of Heiji-kun... But she’s alive, thank goodness...” It was then that he noticed a long, bleeding scratch on one cheek. It was very thin and straight, and as he touched it, he realized that the edges were slightly burned.

“Is this... a gunshot wound?” he wondered aloud, narrowing his eyes on the thin red line. Kazuha coughed again and opened her eyes.

“Otou... san...?” she said, and closed her eyes again as she shivered. “Cold...”

“It’s all right, Kazuha,” he said gently. “Are you all right? Are you hurt? What happened?”

“Not hurt,” she murmured, “jus’ cold... from the river... I was in the river... because...” Her eyes snapped open and she jerked as she tried to sit up.

“Heiji!” she screamed. “They’re going to kill him! We’ve got to get back to the bridge, there’s two of them, they had guns, and _they’re going to kill Heiji—_ ”

“Kazuha!” he yelled, grabbing her to make her still, “Kazuha, calm down. Heiji-kun’s father is upstream right now, he’ll find him. Calm down, okay?” Into the radio, he said, “Did you hear that?”

“ _Every word. I’ll get alerts out now. Get Kazuha somewhere safe—take her back to my house, It’s nearer to the central station and the last I heard your wife had gone over there to worry herself to death with mine. When she’s able, we need descriptions..._ ”

“Two men in black,” Kazuha croaked into the handset. “I didn’t really get a look at them, but one had long silver-blond hair and the other had sunglasses...” she sneezed several times.

“It’s all right, Kazuha,” her father said, picking her up and carrying her to Otaki’s car, hunching over a little to protect her from the falling snow and rising wind. “That’ll be enough for now. The most important thing is finding Heiji-kun...”

“There was stuff about nosy kids,” Kazuha muttered, her eyes drifting close.

“Sorry, but you can’t fall asleep yet,” Toyama said, setting her down in the back seat and sitting next to her. “Stay awake. Tell me what happened.”

“I know...” Kazuha muttered, forcing her eyes open. “We were... walking home...”

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“It’s sweet of you kids to come with me,” Kobayashi-sensei said to the kids as they wandered down the road, hunching down into thick coats against the frozen breeze.

“Do you think Shiratori-keibu will like these?” Ayumi said, holding aloft a little bouquet of flowers.

“I’m sure he will,” the teacher said pleasantly, but she still looked upset. “I still can’t believe it. Poison in the coffee...”

“I don’t get it,” Mitsuhiko said with a frown. “How could anyone get poison into the first division in the first place?”

“By _being_ in the first division,” Ai muttered to Shinichi.

“ _Them_?” Shinichi said uncertainly. He’d talked about things for a long time with Ran last night, and he’d come to realize just what Kaito had meant about the “Shadow Syndicate”. Ran didn’t know a lot about them, just what she’d gleaned from her conversation with Ai. The most that they seemed to know was that while They weren’t absolutely everywhere and couldn’t do absolutely everything, you’d need a microscope to tell the difference.

Ai just nodded, glancing forwards. Shinichi couldn’t help staring a little, now knowing that the creepy, quiet girl was in fact an adult super-genius of a biochemist who had effectively put them in their predicament. He’d wanted to go straight to Agasa-Hakase’s after school, to talk to his actual parents, see his real house and find out a little more about himself, but Kobayashi-sensei had been nervous and upset all day, and when they’d approached her after classes to ask why, she’d told them about how Shiratori, a police inspector that they knew, had been poisoned and hospitalized…

“Well, it’s a good thing he survived, huh?” Genta said, crossing his arms behind his head.

“Megure-keibu said that it was TTX,” Ran said thoughtfully. “I remember Jodie-sensei was talking about it once. She said it was fairly treatable if ingested by mouth, and he didn’t have a major dose...”

“He’s just lucky that whoever it was didn’t use something more instantly lethal, like cyanide,” Ai commented.

“Oh, _don’t_ let’s think about that,” Kobayashi said with a shudder. Shinichi, Ai, Ran and the kids all exchanged little grins. “What?”

“You really _like_ Shiratori-keibu, don’t you?” Ayumi giggled.

Kobayashi blushed. “What?” she said hotly. “He’s been around the area a lot recently, we’re friends... is it bad to worry about a friend?”

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” Mitsuhiko sniggered.

“Is this the hospital?” Kobayashi asked, desperate to change the topic though her cheeks were still pink. The clerk, however, had bad news for them.

“He’s awake, but the room’s swamped with police officers,” he said. “If you wait about half an hour, you might get in...”

“We can do that!” Ayumi said. Mitsuhiko and Genta both nodded, though Genta was already looking impatient.

“Oh, no...” Shinichi said, looking at his watch. “I was, uh... gonna meet Kaa-san...”

“I’ll take you to do that,” Ran said. “We can come visit Shiratori-keibu tomorrow. You’ll say hello to him for us, won’t you?”

“Aww, you have to go?” Ayumi complained.

“We’ll give him your well-wishes,” Ai promised softly. “Go see your kaa-san.”

“Yes, seeing your mother is important, right?” Kobayashi said brightly. “After all, it might help you regain your memory...”

“Then we’ll see you tomorrow,” Mitsuhiko called as Shinichi and Ran left.

“If feel bad about not waiting around for Shiratori-keibu,” Shinichi admitted once they were outside, “but... I just have to know...”

“What’s going on, I know,” Ran said sympathetically. “I lost my memory, once, a bit over a year ago... I remember that it was a little scary, not quite having a handle on who I was...”

“You did?” said Shinichi. “What brought your memory back?”

“Well... you,” Ran said with a little smile. “But my situation was a little different. It was a traumatic thing, and... well, we’re not quite certain what happened to you. But I’m sure we’ll find out soon.”

“Yeah...” Shinichi said, a little uncertainly. Something was nagging at his brain, ever since he’d talked to Kaito. He knew something... something _important_... if only he could remember it...

“All right, this is actually your house,” Ran said, as they approached the huge western-style mansion next to Agasa-Hakase’s.

“Wow...” Shinichi said, staring up at it. He looked at the cars in the driveway. “Whose are those?”

“The silver one is the one that your parents were renting,” Ran said, frowning at the rather old-fashioned convertible, “but I don’t know whose that is...”

Shinichi was silent as they entered the front hall. “Hello?” Ran called. Instantly, a pretty woman with curly, bleached hair popped out from a doorway down the hall. She seemed familiar to Shinichi, although he knew he hadn’t seen her since he’d lost his memory.

“Shin-chan!” she cried happily. “And Ran-chan too... Yuu-chan said you might be here today...” Shinichi stared a little, caught off-guard by the onslaught of “chan”s. “If you’re here, then...?”

“Ran told me a lot,” Shinichi said, “but I’m still kinda... overwhelmed... are you my Kaa-san?”

“That’s right,” she said, kneeling in front of him. “Do you...?”

“I... don’t really remember a lot,” he admitted. “But... you seemed kinda familiar, so I guessed...”

“Who else is here?” Ran asked, as Yukiko abruptly hugged Shinichi tightly and the boy squeaked in surprise.

“Well, we’ve been chatting to _your_ parents all day,” Yukiko said, with an amused glint in her eye, “and I feel ashamed to admit it, but the look on Kogoro-kun’s face when we told him the full story was just the _funniest_ thing... He’s gotten over it with relatively good grace, I have to admit. I really admire your mother for not needling him _too_ much about it. Then Hakuba-kun turned up...”

“Hakuba-kun?” Ran said.

“Who?” Shinichi said.

“Hakuba Saguru’s a kokosei-tantei, like you,” Ran explained, “but still full sized.”

“And he’s got a friend with him with some rather odd theories about what happened to Shin-chan’s memories,” Yukiko said, leading them to the living room, “although at least he _recognizes_ how bizarre they are...”

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Heizo peered through the snow, windscreen wipers thrashing against the increasingly heavy deluge. Soon it would be a blizzard, and whether Heiji was alive or dead right now, Heizo feared that if he was out in a blizzard all night, it would no longer be a Schrodinger’s cat case...

Then, though the thickening blur of white, he spotted something black stepping out of the treeline along this stretch of banking. He turned on his siren, and the figure ran, leaping onto a motorbike and accelerating away. He pulled out his radio.

“Calling all cars on the west bank!” he barked. “This is Hattori. Figure in black spotted escaping on motorcycle, headed towards the motorway. Intercept and pursue. I’m going to sweep the bank.” He braked, skidding slightly on the snow, then pulled up his hood and stepped out into the driving snow.

It really was coming down thickly, though the trees provided some shelter. He grasped his gun under his coat, remembering that Kazuha had mentioned _two_ figures in black; he had only seen one. He pressed through the trees, faintly hearing the roaring of the river. Then the riverbank came into sight, and he stilled. There was something else dark there, faintly visible amongst the snow. It wasn’t black. It was just dark skin—a dark-skinned hand protruding from a bunched-up sleeve.

“Heiji!” he hissed, lurching forwards. He glanced around, watching for any sign of movement and wishing that he’d brought backup, but there was nothing; no black figures standing out against the snow. He let go of his gun, hurrying over to the prone figure.

It was then that he realized that something was very, very wrong.

The sleeve was indeed bunched up— _too_ bunched up. The hand protruding from it... was too small...

Heizo knelt before the tiny, prone form, reaching out in surprise to pick up the little boy swathed in soaking, oversized clothes which had frozen stiff. One look at his face left Heizo in no doubt; this was Heiji, this was his son. But...

“What’s going on?” he whispered, staring down at the sleeping face. He shook him slightly, trying to wake him. The little boy moaned and shivered, curling unconsciously towards Heizo’s warmth, but did not wake. Heizo felt a surge of relief; he was alive, at least. But...

Why was he so _small_?

Without calling any squad cars, he hurried back to his own, removing Heiji’s frozen clothes and wrapping him in a number of emergency blankets. Then he lay him down on the back seat and buckled him in, accelerating away through the growing blizzard, trying to head home without being seen.

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“They’re planning the strike this week...”

“ _We’ll do better... and they’ll be slowed down... if they don’t have his protection._ ”

“So should I neutralise him?”

“ _One of Snakebite’s people will handle that. You just need to be in the room at the time so that you have an assured alibi... you’ll be promoted into his place, and be in a position of unequalled use and power to us._ ”

“Got it. I have a morning meeting with him tomorrow at half-eight...”

“ _He’ll be dead by nine. Just get him within sight of his office window._ ”

“Of course.”

“ _Don’t fail, Schnapps._ ”

“Have I ever failed you?”


	61. Liquid Amnesia

“YOU!”

Shinichi jumped at being thus addressed by an accusing finger the second that he entered the living room. The finger then turned into a fist, which Ran caught, and the accusing roar on the other end turned to a whimper of pain.

“I told you more than once that I don’t like you hitting him, Otou-san,” Ran said sweetly, “and I _really_ won’t tolerate it now.”

“That little brat stole my thunder!” Kogoro complained, shaking his hand as Ran let go of it. “That lying little freeloading son of a—”

“ _My_ son,” Yukiko said pointedly, ushering Shinichi over to a chair. They were all settled in the large living room, Yukiko and a man that Shinichi recognized from the book cover as Kudo Yuusaku—his father—on one couch, Kogoro and Eri on another. There were also two armchairs, and Shinichi sat in one while Ran settled herself between her parents. Hakuba was hovering around the other armchair, Koizumi Akako sitting in it and staring unsettlingly at Shinichi.

“Trust me, it is not the _only_ bizarre concoction in effect in this room,” Akako pointed out.

“What are you talking about?” Ran asked, looking Akako over. She looked like some kind of vampire goddess again.

“Koizumi-san thinks she knows how Conan-kun lost his memory,” Hakuba said.

“We’ll have to clear _that_ up, too,” Yuusaku muttered, in reference to the “Conan-kun”.

“Amnesial,” Akako said simply.

“And that is...?” Eri asked, staring a little dubiously at the girl.

“It used to be known as liquid amnesia,” Akako said. “One of the many legacies of the ancient American cultures that never reached the modern world, thanks to the settler’s policy of wholesale destruction. They had such a _wonderful_ drug culture...”

“Please, please stop that line of thought there,” Hakuba sighed. “Back to the Amnesial, Koizumi-san...”

“Oh, all right.” Akako opened a rather ancient-looking old tome. “Amnesial... ingestion obliterates all memories, permanently. In scientific terms, you could say that it permanently destroys the nodes in the hippocampus or whatever... I’ve never had much truck with _science_. At any rate, recovery of memories is permanently impossible.”

“But I’ve been having flashbacks,” Shinichi said with a frown.

“Yes, _that_ ’s the special bit,” Akako said with a slight smile. “Now, either you were fed a badly mixed or incomplete dosage of Amnesial... unlikely, because depending on which ingredient was switched or omitted, there’s a number of rather special effects that it could have had, from making you bald or wiping your speech centre, rendering you mute, to producing some form of elephantitis in its worst-case scenario...” Everyone stared at Yukiko as she fought to control the giggles, though if Yuusaku’s slight smile was any indication he knew what the joke was.

“Never mind, it’s nothing important,” he said, cheek twitching. “Please continue, Koizumi-san.”

Akako stared at Yukiko for another long moment, giving Shinichi the unsettling impression that she may well be reading the other woman’s mind, before returning to her explanation.

“It’s possible that you have some extra resilience, given your situation,” she continued. Hakuba was the only one to look confused.

“We’ll get to that in a minute,” Yuusaku said consolingly.

“After all, children do have incredible abilities to heal, due to the powerful influx of growth hormones,” Akako continues, ignoring them. “And of course, both your brain and your body are used to dealing with _such_ a lot. There’s also...”

“Also?” Shinichi said.

“I’m not certain,” Akako said with a frown. “Simply that... something protects you. Your aura... it is so powerful. There is something _special_ about you... something... beyond...” she trailed off, staring at him with brows furrowed.

“I’m now certain that I’m the only one missing something here,” Hakuba proclaimed.

“You know, an awful lot of people have been told recently...” Yukiko said worriedly.

“I know,” Yuusaku sighed. “But... it’s necessary. I prefer to think of it as having more people that we can always trust, which is always comforting. Besides, Koizumi-san already seems to know...”

“Wait a minute... _do_ you know, Koizumi-san?” Ran asked.

“I sensed it easily,” Akako said, closing the book, “And Lucifer confirmed it. Oh, and do call me Akako-chan.”

“Sensed _what_?” Hakuba said testily.

“That Edogawa Conan... isn’t,” Yuusaku sighed. “It’s a pseudonym. His real name’s Kudo Shinichi.”

Hakuba jerked. “ _You’re_ Kudo Shinichi?”

“Apparently,” Shinichi said with a shrug.

“This isn’t anything to do with _you_ , is it?” Hakuba said, looking suspiciously at Akako. She held up her hands, looking about as innocent as she ever got.

“It’s a long story,” Yuusaku said. “Let’s condense it to: Shinichi gets nosy, Shinichi gets poisoned with prototype elixir of immortality, Shinichi shrinks. Prototype is being developed by people who are trying to find a jewel which supposedly produces said elixir, and tried to hire Toichi-kun to do it, and you can guess what his response was given that they murdered him and are anxious to do the same for Kaito-kun, but you’re very familiar with _that_ particular mess.”

“Incredibly so,” Hakuba said with a shudder. “You know what? Frankly, it’s barely any stranger than some of the stuff that Koizumi-san and Kuroba pull. The important things, right now, are: taking these people down and recovering Conan-kun—Kudo-kun—whoever-he-is’ memories.”

“I’m afraid that an antidote is impossible, but given his flashbacks, the latter should happen in time,” Akako said placidly. “As for the former...?”

“A speed strike has been running,” Hakuba said. “The details that the Osaka police acquired from an ‘anonymous’ source allowed them to locate higher-ranking infiltrators in surrounding prefectures. Strikes have happened in five or six others now, I believe... word’s gone out that as soon as you receive information on infiltrators, you strike, and once you have a high-level you’ve got all of his or her subordinates. It’s spreading, and working. A number of officers in other prefectures have resigned and vanished or... ‘Committed suicide’. I’m reserving judgement on that one. I tried to call Hattori about it all, but he’s not picking up for some reason. It might just be the major blizzards that have been hitting the south-west all day. They’re making landlines awfully sketchy as well.”

“Oh, but you said they’re trying to kill the Kaitou Kid, didn’t you?” Ran said. “Then they might show up at the next heist...”

“Next heist? What next heist?” Hakuba and Yuusaku both said sharply.

“Oh, we got this last night...” Shinichi said, pulling out the card and reading it out. “ _I shall bypass the blind queen to take her false king awash with blood, before the circling ravens can strike..._ ”

“That last part is clearly a challenge,” Hakuba said, swiftly moving over to look at the card. “He’s challenging Them.”

“I thought he tended to send these to news stations as well,” Eri commented.

“I think they’ll be in the news sometime tomorrow morning or the day after,” Shinichi said, handing the card over to Hakuba, who was joined by Yuusaku. “It’s going to be the twenty-fifth—the next new moon.”

“I see,” Kogoro said thoughtfully. “The ‘queen’ is the moon—sort of a reference to the Kaguya-hime story, everyone knows that one; she would have been a queen once she’d returned to her realm. And blind means that there’s no moon... a new moon...”

“And the false king must be that diamond,” Yuusaku commented. “They thought it was a crown jewel, but it wasn’t... therefore, not a king’s. Awash with blood...”

“Rather chilling, isn’t it?” Eri said with a shiver. “His notes have been getting darker... the one before the last mentioned blood as well...”

“These are dark times for him, after all,” Hakuba said, pocketing the card. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take that to Nakamori-keibu...”

“All very cloak-and-dagger,” Kogoro grumbled. “But why not just kill the brat? Wasn’t that what they’d originally intended to do anyway?”

“It’s what the Syndicate wants,” Yuusaku said. “What Vermouth wants may well be another matter entirely.”

“She did let him live before...” Yukiko said, but she still looked frightened. “But... what is she up to?”

“Yet another mystery on top of many,” Hakuba muttered. “Well, I’d better be going... it’s getting late and I have to deliver this to Nakamori-keibu...”

“I’ll come,” Akako said, rising. “I would like to see how Aoko-chan is doing in Kuroba-kun’s absence...”

“Give her my sympathies,” Ran said. “I know how hard it is to be waiting and worrying...” she glared at Shinichi, who couldn’t help feeling deeply guilty even though he couldn’t quite remember the implied transgression.

“Take care,” Yuusaku called as Yukiko, ever the polite hostess, walked them to the door.

“Which means we ought to be leaving as well, I guess,” Eri sighed. “You two _do_ have school tomorrow...”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Kogoro growled, pointing accusingly at Conan. “Is he _still_ coming back with us?”

“That’s a good if rudely put point,” Yuusaku said. “If you’re trying to regain your memories, Shinichi, it may be more conducive to do so in your _real_ home...”

“So I’ll be staying here again instead of with Ran’s family?” he said. “Yeah, that makes sense, I guess...” but he couldn’t help the little lurch at the thought of leaving Ran; her presence was a comfort to him, when he had been most frightened and confused, and he still was, a little. But...

“ _Listen, I know this is kinda overwhelming, but right now, you need to remember that you’re not some frightened little kid. You are a smart, brave and downright_ brilliant _kid, and in fact if what that girl said is true you’re actually a smart, brave and brilliant_ guy...”

As he calmed himself, however, he could _feel_ it—the unstoppable urge to put these people in jail, to see them pay for their crimes, to _not let them get away._ It was neither quite knowledge nor a memory, just _who he was._ Who he was, no matter what, couldn’t let a case like this go. He wasn’t afraid of these shadowy assassins any more, not like he had been when it had first come out of the blue that somebody was after his life; wasn’t afraid that they would get him, since if they hadn’t done it so far then he was damn sure that they wouldn’t any time soon.

What _did_ frighten him was the realization that he might not be the only one they were hunting; Kaito, he felt rather than remembered, could handle himself. But he also got the impression that he not only _could_ handle things by himself, he _had_ to. Whatever this was was _dangerous_ , and people could—and probably already had—died for it. Kaito had come to him, even though his mind was in tatters and his body was shrunken beyond a lot of use, because he was _already_ involved, rather than involving anyone who wasn’t already in danger. The thief wasn’t going to involve anyone he didn’t have to, including the people around him. _That_ was what frightened Shinichi; that he wasn’t the only one who might be made to pay for his own mistakes.

He glanced up at Ran, remembering her kindness and patience, all through last night, when he’d been unable to sleep, trying to sort everything out; she’d sat with him and talked to him, like she had the night that he’d gotten to Hattori’s, fresh out of wherever he’d been, _sans_ memories. For hours, she had quietly and patiently talked him through his confusion, answering his questions as far as she could, soothing his fears. He didn’t want to give up the security that she brought him, but even less did he want to see her hurt. If what she had told him was true—and he had no reason to believe that it wasn’t—she had waited for him, fought her own fears for him, lied for him. He had no intention of seeing her _die_ for him.

“Then the first thing you need to do is get some sleep,” Yukiko said, returning to the living room. “You look exhausted.”

“I don’t feel it,” Shinichi said, but the second that his mother had mentioned sleep he had suddenly remembered that he _was_ exhausted; he could feel the overwhelming urge to yawn. He hadn’t slept at all last night, after all. “All right... where’s my room?”

“We’ll see Ran-chan and the others out of the door, and then I’ll show you,” Yukiko said with a smile.

“Are you sure, Shinichi?” Ran asked as they headed for the door.

“I think it’ll help me regain my memories faster,” Shinichi reassured her. “I really want to get back what I knew... I think it’ll help.”

“We’ll bring your stuff back over sometime tomorrow,” Kogoro grumbled. “If you’re moving back in here...”

“I think it will be good for regaining your memories,” Eri said kindly. “You’d better still be going to school, though.”

“I’m back to myself enough to dread kiddy school,” Shinichi groaned.

Ran giggled, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. “I’ll pick you up in the morning,” she said. “Now get some sleep and try to _relax_. You’re frankly infuriating for remaining calm when the rest of the world is falling to pieces, you know.”

“I don’t yet,” Shinichi sighed, “but I’ll add it to the info pile. I’ll... see you tomorrow, Ran.”

“ _No thumping_ , Anata,” Eri cautioned as she led Kogoro, grumbling, out of the door.

“She’s _still_ at yours?” Yukiko whispered gleefully. Ran winked and gave the thumbs-up before following her parents out of the door.

“They’re a bit of a weird couple,” Shinichi commented, referring to Eri and Kogoro.

“I’m just glad that Eri-chan is living with her husband again,” Yukiko said happily. “You know, she’s been living apart for... goodness, it must be getting on for eleven or twelve years now...”

“Really?” Shinichi said in surprise. “Why?”

“Because little kids only tease the ones that they really like,” Yuusaku chuckled. “Your room’s up here... how are you doing? You look a little lost...”

“I do feel kind of lost...” Shinichi admitted. “And that really, _really_ bugs me.”

“Well, tomorrow we’ll talk to Agasa-Hakase and Ai-kun,” Yuusaku said,” and tell you all of the Syndicate information that you had... at least, all that you had and felt inclined to share.”


	62. Welcome To My World

Heiji drifted slowly back into consciousness. It had been so hot, and there had been so much pain. Then it had been cold, too cold to feel the pain. Now it was warm and soft. A bed. Yes. Was it a hospital bed? He must be in hospital because of that burning poison. But if he was in hospital, did that mean that he was still alive?

He opened his eyes, blinking a couple of times as he focused. He wasn’t in a hospital room. This was his bedroom, wasn’t it? But something was wrong. It felt... odd...

“Heiji?”

Kazuha’s worried face popped into his line of sight. Her eyes were full of tears and there was a bandage on her left cheek.

“Heiji?” she said again, her voice trembling a little. “Can you hear me?”

“Kazu... ha...” he said, and stopped. He had been about to ask her if she was all right, but there was something wrong with his voice. His throat felt fine, just... different...

“ _Untraceable..._ ”

The fragment of a voice drifted through his mind, but he couldn’t tell if it was the voice of the cold-eyed man or another.

“It’s really you?” Kazuha said, her voice wobbling even more.

“Who else?” Heiji muttered, trying to sit up, but wincing as his ribs throbbed. _Dammit... did that cold-eyed bastard break one?_

“Don’t move,” Kazuha babbled quickly. “You’ve got bruised ribs, but not broken, thankfully... I’m glad yer fever broke, you were tossin’ and turnin’ all night... we came back here after Otou-san found me, but by the time yer Otou-san found you, the blizzard had really kicked up and we kinda had ta stay here...”

“Are ya... all right?” Heiji muttered, still wondering about his voice. Not just that felt strange, it was all just... wrong...

“I’m fine... uh...” Kazuha was fiddling with her ponytail, as if avoiding asking something. “It’s really...?”

“Why do ya keep askin’ that?” Heiji asked hotly.

Kazuha looked down for a moment, before leaning over and picking up a mirror lying next to her futon. “Well... ‘cause...” she said nervously, holding up the mirror.

Heiji stared into the emerald eyes of a six-year-old.

“ _You aren’t the first nosy kids we’ve silenced..._ ”

Oh, shit.

The four adults were woken by words yelled by a voice that sounded far too young to know them.

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 _What the—!_ Kaito thought, jerking behind a corner as he saw a black car pull up in front of the office tower. It wasn’t the car that made him hide—it was the driver.

Small world.

The man who got out, wearing a black trenchcoat and carrying a suitcase, wasn’t Snake, but one of his subordinates; Kaito recognised him, having seen him a couple of times before on heists/attempted assassinations. _A sniper_.

Reminding himself that he was in disguise and therefore unlikely to be recognised, he crossed the street—he was uncomfortable with being in front of the Tokyo Met HQ anyway—and slipped into the office building, Poker Face hiding a moment of quiet panic as he passed the car. But Snake didn’t notice him-in fact, he drove away. Resisting the urge to chase the bastard like a dog chasing a car, Kaito followed the sniper.

He’d picked a good day to sneak into the building; in fact, he didn’t have to sneak at all. A crowd entered the same elevator as the sniper, allowing Kaito to get into the same elevator unnoticed, as part of the crowd; from their chatter, he gathered that the company inhabiting several floors of the building had just expanded and taken on over a dozen new employees, and was celebrating today.

 _So the sniper figures that nobody’ll notice another unfamiliar face..._ he hid a smirk. _Or two._

They all got out on a crowded office floor, where music was playing as people milled about; the sniper moved silently through the crowd, and Kaito followed closely, unnoticed through the throng. _Besides, he’s not expecting to be followed, so he doesn’t_ look _... elementary mistake..._ Eventually they reached a staff bathroom. Each stall had a high window over it, letting light in. Kaito stepped into the stall next to the sniper, pulling out a mirror and using it to see over the gap in the top of the stall. What he saw chilled his blood even if it didn’t surprise him; the man screwing together a sniper rifle with a silencer.

He ran out of his stall, picking the lock of the next one quickly and easily; he burst into the stall, grabbing the man’s arms, just as he fired.

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“What the hell?” Heiji muttered, winding down, still staring at the mirror. He reached out to touch the glass, as if it might just be an old photograph, but the dark-skinned little boy tapped back. “Holy hell... this is...”

“I guess ya really are Heiji,” Shizuka said tremulously. “Ya sound like him, anyways... but... _how_?”

“What happened, Heiji?” Heizo said sternly. “How are... you...?”

“It’s Shiyaroku,” Heiji gasped. “Shit, it’s actually...”

“Shiyaroku?” Heizo asked sharply.

“Heiji... what _happened_ to ya?” Kazuha asked. “Those guys... did they...?”

“People don’t just _shrink_ ,” Kazuha’s father said sharply.

“Normally, nah,” Heiji said, unable to tear his eyes away from the mirror, as if it would clear up and show him the face of an eighteen-year-old instead. “Most people given that stuff die... there’s somethin’ about apoptosis, I don’t follow it all, but th’ end result is a horribly painful death an’ a corpse with no trace a’ the stuff in it. Unsolvable murder, worked every time... except fer twice. Three times now, I guess...”

“It’s a poison?” Heizo asked. “And there are others like this?”

“Yeah,” Heiji said, trying to stop his brain from going _holycrapholycrapholycrap_ , “It’s called... APTX 4869, I think. Oh, shit...”

“Is there a _cure_?” Shizuka asked worriedly.

“Not yet there ain’t,” Heiji sighed, running his little hand through his hair, “but I ain’t heard from Kudo or that freaky scientist girl lately, so dunno...”

“Heiji, deep breath and start from the beginning,” Heizo said, kneeling next to the bed to put himself at Heiji’s level. “Who else is alive?”

“Kudo,” Heiji said. “Kudo’s the first one who survived... the second one was the girl who made the stuff.”

“Kudo-kun shrank?” Kazuha asked in surprise. “Is that why he left?”

“He never left, Kazuha,” Heiji said, still staring at his reflection. _How the hell did Kudo get used to this?_ “Not that ‘e knows it, now he’s got amnesia...”

Kazuha’s jaw dropped. “ _Conan-kun?!_ ”

“The scientist who made the stuff’s in Tokyo,” Heiji said to his father as Kazuha gaped like a fish.

“Then we’re heading out there as soon as the storm clears,” Heizo said firmly. “I’ll find some pretext, though it’ll be difficult since you’re still officially missing... until then, can you tell us the whole story?”

“As much as I know,” Heiji sighed. “Can ya put the mirror away? It’s freakin’ me out. An’ I hope that girl’s had a breakthrough while I’ve been outta the loop, ‘cause I sure as hell ain’t goin’ through grade school again...”

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Aoko doodled listlessly on the back of her notebook. She was _still_ worried about Kaito, even though the last time that she’d called him he’d insisted that he was doing fine, and his wrist had healed up pretty well though he was keeping the brace on it to be safe. But she was getting lonelier every day without him; Keiko kept complaining that she was dozing off in class, daydreaming. Her father wasn’t around much either, even less than usual. Something to do with the Kid case, he’d said. Now that an actual heist had been announced (It had been all over the papers this morning, and Kami how she missed seeing Kaito sitting on his desk, reading the latest on Kid and grinning like the idiot that was), she wasn’t sure that he was making it home at all. It just left her feeling so _lonely_...

“Hakuba Saguru?”

She glanced up, looking just as surprised as the British boy did as a school secretary appeared at the door.

“We just got a call… can I speak to you for a moment?” she asked nervously. As he stood up, she added, “Ah, you may want to bring your things...” His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he packed his things up. Aoko felt a terrible wave of worry. If they wanted him to bring his things, then he’d probably have to leave... and they only asked that if a student’s relative was in hospital or...

Sensei continued the lesson after Hakuba had left, but Aoko wasn’t listening, instead watching him through the little glass window in the doorway. He looked stern and expressionless as usual for a while, but then, to her surprise and fear, he turned deathly pale, his eyes widening, looking more shocked than she’d ever seen him, shaking his head briefly. She stood up, ignoring sensei’s remonstrations, heading for the door.

“Nakamori-san, please sit down! You too, Koizumi-san!”

Aoko glanced over to see Akako also making her way to the door, her face grim and paler than usual. They both ignored the teacher, stepping out into the hall. Hakuba jumped as they opened the door, looking more shaken than Aoko had ever seen him.

“What’s happened, Hakuba-kun?” Aoko asked worriedly.

“Who has passed?” Akako asked, and few would have detected the tiny tremble in her voice as she asked. Hakuba blinked, not in any mood to be shaken up any more, then swallowed and spoke in the faintest voice that Aoko had ever heard from the normally overconfident detective.

“Chichi-ue,” he said. “It was a sniper. He was shot through the head an hour ago.”

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 _Shit. Holy shit._ Damn _it!_

Kaito’s fists clenched, but he resisted punching the wall. He’d scraped himself up enough struggling with that damn sniper, and the second he’d gotten the gun off of the son of a bitch he’d pulled out a little pill and before Kaito or any of the office workers crowded around him could stop him he’d swallowed...

Well, now the police had their murderer, one who was hardly going to give any evidence to the contrary. But it had been too late. He hadn’t been able to stop the murder.

He hadn’t realized that there’d been another.

 _And he’ll be able to destroy the evidence..._ he thought, clenching his jaw. Then he ran, pulling out a capsule of sleeping gas for the first unlucky cop that he came across. _No way. This isn’t going down like Tou-san’s murder. I’m not letting_ anyone _else go through that shit. Especially... not a friend._

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“So it’s true...” Ginzo gasped, staring at the photographs. It had been barely over an hour, but investigations moved fastest within a police station... though if the Shiratori case was anything to go by, they were also easiest to waylay.

There was the dead man lying in the toilet cubicle. There were the three spent sniper shells. There were a number of handgun bullets shot out of the superintendant general’s office window as he and his deputy returned fire, though all would probably never be found; they would have fallen into the road, into gutters, so on. There was the broken window, completely destroyed by both sniper and handgun fire. There was a broken glass, hit by a sniper bullet. And there was Superintendant General Hakuba Mamoru, a bullet in the back of his head.

“The doctors doing the autopsy are checking that the bullet matches the sniper rifle now,” another pale-faced officer said. “According to Yamashiro-keibu, the first sniper shot hit the glass. Both he and the superintendant reflexively returned fire, he said, but the second shot...”

“There’s three spent shells,” Ginzo pointed out with a frown.

“It seems that a man tussled with the sniper in the bathroom,” the officer replied, “and the gun went off then... the third bullet wasn’t found in the bathroom, only the shell, so either it went out of the window somewhere too... or it’s in the man who attacked the sniper. He seems to have vanished. The sniper took a cyanide capsule when the man took his gun from him, it seems. A lot of the employees of the office handled the gun when pulling it away from the dead man and keeping it out of the way, so there’s just a mess of fingerprints... we have no idea which might be the attacker’s.”

“I see...” Ginzo growled, fisting his hands. “Dammit. Has anyone contacted the Superintendant’s...?”

“His wife has been called and is flying in from England tonight,” the officer said. “His son’s school has been called...”

“Right,” Ginzo said, storming downstairs. _Dammit! We needed his position and patronage to safely investigate these bastards and take them down... did they... know that...?_

“There’s been another one!”

“What the hell?”

“What is this, a sniper infestation?”

“More snipers?!” Ginzo demanded, running into a group who were questioning Megure-keibu.

“These ones got away,” he growled. “Sato-kun and Takagi-kun were shot at near Tokyo Tower... by the time any officers got up there, whoever it was was long gone.”

“Two sniper attacks in a day!” Ginzo raged. “What the hell is going on?!”

“Both people involved in that ‘special investigation,’ you realize,” Megure muttered. “What is happening is that we’re onto something and we need to finish it before it finishes us.”

“All right. So how are Sato and Takagi? Fatalities or injuries?”

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_Wataru was rolling out yellow tape for the perimeter around the alleyway with the unfortunate corpse when one end flapped loose. Reaching up to grab it, he saw the window of an apartment across the road—and the silenced sniper rifle poking out of it._

_“Sato-san! Get down!”_

_He didn’t hear the shot—of course not, it was silenced—but he_ felt _the bullet burrow into his back as he reached for Sato. He felt more shots scrape past him. Sato screamed. Was it anger or pain? Oh Kami, had she been hit? Wataru didn’t know... his vision was fading out..._

_“Takagi-kun!”_


	63. Loss

“I’m sorry.”

Saguru jerked, whipping around to see the figure sitting on the sill of his bedroom window. Perhaps it was testimony to their relationship, both professional and personal, that Kuroba wasn’t wearing his Kid regalia. He was wearing the Ace of Spades hoodie and jeans with a dark blue baseball cap pulled down low over his face, his expression hidden. Saguru tried to compose himself too, but it was difficult. He’d barely known his father, but he was his _father_ —and he had been murdered by the very people that he’d been helping Saguru to stop.

“You heard?” he said gruffly.

“I was there, sort of,” Kuroba said in a flat, low voice. “I was stalking that sniper... I tried to stop him, to grab the gun off him, but when I did he took the cyanide capsule... and your father was shot.”

“You tried to stop the sniper, but you were too late...” Hakuba said, feeling an odd mix of anger at Kuroba for being too late and admiration for even trying. “You were the one they saw wrestling with the sniper in the bathroom...”

“Yeah, and I caught a couple of bullets for it too,” Kuroba sighed, pulling out a little plastic bag with two sniper bullets in it. “Lucky the padding I was wearing for my disguise was so thick.”

“Wait... _two_ bullets?” Saguru said. “I thought they only found three spent shells in the bathroom... and two sniper shots hit my father’s office. One smashed a glass—”

“Because the sniper’s aim was rather put off by me having my hands around the barrel of the rifle,” Kuroba said darkly. “It wasn’t that I was too late... I just went after the wrong person.”

“What?” Saguru said sharply.

“Listen,” Kuroba said urgently. “The guy fired three shots. Two ended up buried in the padding I was using to look like a much fatter guy. One went through your father’s window, smashing a glass. That was why your father and the deputy returned fire, right? But then your father ended up with a bullet in his brain that _wasn’t fired by a sniper_. If that first shot had hit your father and one of the volley of return fire had smashed the glass, how could your father have returned fire? But his fingerprints are on his gun, there’s gunpowder all over him and his bullets outside of the window.”

“So the sniper hit the glass, Chichi-ue and Yamashiro-san returned fire...” Saguru summarised with a frown, brain whirring. “But I don’t get it. Forensics said that it was a sniper bullet...”

“The forensics officer that examined your father’s body was one of _Them_ , Hakuba,” Kuroba said. “This is the bullet that killed your father.” he pulled out another bag, this time with a single bullet.

“How did you—?!” Saguru said in surprise.

“Please forgive me for breaking in to where your father’s body was stored, but I had to remove vital evidence before They destroyed it...” Kuroba said, bowing his head and tossing the bag to Saguru. “If you take it to a real forensics officer, they will find your father’s blood and, eh... other substances on it. They will also find that this bullet is not from a sniper rifle. It is from a government-issue service pistol.”

“A...” Saguru’s jaw dropped as he realized. “ _Yamashiro!_ ”

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“Congratulations, Schnapps,” Vermouth said, tipping a glass to the man.

“The mission was a success,” Schnapps chuckled. “I hadn’t expected the sniper to be taken out, but at least he had the prescience to silence himself...”

“And then you made an admirable field decision,” Vermouth said with a smile. “You even sent the body to one of _our_ people for forensic examination... I knew you had brains, Schnapps.”

“And now, I’m one of the most powerful men in the Tokyo Met,” Schnapps said proudly, raising his own glass, “in a position of almost unparalleled trust and influence. I don’t know why we didn’t do this sooner.”

“It was unnecessary,” Vermouth said, sipping her drink. “After all, that old fool trusted you, so you as good as had his power and influence, and such a high-level investigation would have been... problematic. But now... it was necessary.”

“Too bad we can’t take out lesser officers as well,” Schnapps growled. “What are Snakebite’s people up to? They can’t even kill three officers... they haven’t even _tried_ yet for one...”

“Sato and Takagi are rare officers, it’ll take more than an anonymous sniper to stop them,” Vermouth sighed. “As for Nakamori... well, what with Snakebite’s plans for the next heist, there’s bound to be a bit of crossfire, and wouldn’t it just be too tragic if he got caught up in that? How poignant to die as he lived... eating Kid’s dirt.”

“His _grave_ dirt,” Schnapps growled. “Snakebite’s getting too noticed, so next time... either Kid dies, or he does...”

“This is not a time for subtlety,” Vermouth said, standing up and swaying towards the door. “Snakebite’s mission is very important, and its time is running out...”

“And yet almost no-one knows what it is,” Schnapps muttered irritably. “Well, what are you up to?”

“Places to go, people to meet,” she said, waving her hand airily as she stepped out of the door. “Good luck... Superintendant.”

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“Kami above... one of _Them_ is in charge of the Tokyo Met...” Saguru gasped, staring at the bullet in the bag.

“And he’s already closed the investigation,” Kuroba said flatly.

“I know,” Saguru said quietly. “Chichi-ue’s funeral is the day after tomorrow. State funeral for such an outstanding civil servant, of course... but with this evidence...”

“It would only work going to the Commissioner General, he’s the only one with enough power to arrest Yamashiro,” Kuroba said.

“Then that’s what I’ll do... Kuroba...” Saguru said quietly, “This... reminds you of your father’s death, doesn’t it?”

Kuroba remained expressionless, but quietly he said, “I couldn’t bring the truth of _my_ father’s death to light... I don’t intend to fail again.”

“Thank you,” Saguru said quietly. Kuroba nodded, then turned and slipped out of the window. “Kuroba, WAIT!” Saguru yelled, running to the window, but he was already gone.

Saguru stared down at the two little bags, feeling... grief, and odd sense of loss for a man he’d barely even known. How bad must Kuroba’s pain have been?

Well, no more. Not ever. For the first time in longer than he’d care to remember, Hakuba Saguru was _angry_.

“Like you said, Kuroba...” he said quietly, reaching for his phone, “the truth _will_ prevail.”

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“Is that true? Kami... no, I can be there. Yes, of course. All right. Sayonara.”

“Whassup, Oyaji?” Heiji asked, trying not to itch as Kazuha cut tags off of the clothes that her mother had bought for him. His mother and Kazuha wouldn’t leave him alone, hovering around him worriedly as if the next time that they took their eyes off of him he’d vanish entirely. A warrant had gone out for the two men, whom Kazuha and Heiji had both described, but officially only Kazuha had been found. The men hadn’t, the bastards. The blizzard had died down and the roads had been cleared, so Heizo was trying to find some excuse to go to Tokyo while he was supposedly heading a manhunt for his son in Osaka—he wouldn’t trust the task of looking after Heiji and an insistent Kazuha to anyone else.

“Looks like we have that pretext to go to Tokyo,” Heizo said quietly. “Superintendant Hakuba’s dead and I’ve been invited to the funeral.”

“What?!”Heiji yelped, shooting to his feet. “ _Dead_?!”

“Officially, it’s a sniper shot,” Heizo said. “But Hakuba-kun... Hakuba Saguru-kun, obviously... implied that there was more to it... I’ll be able to get more details when I get to Tokyo, but... Well, I promised to start driving out tomorrow morning. There’s a review that I have to attend then, to determine precisely what happened. I said I’ll be coming alone, but I’ll take you two with me and drop you off where you need to be on the way. Will that work?”

“Perfectly,” Heiji croaked. “Holy hell... geez, I wonder how Hakuba’s doin’...”

“I think you’ll both have some surprises for each other tomorrow,” Kazuha said dryly.

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“Nnnnn...” Wataru winced in pain as he drifted back to consciousness. _Okay,_ that _hurts... but pain means alive, so that’s all good..._ he opened his eyes, staring around a little muzzily at the hospital room.

“Oh, thank Kami you’re awake,” he heard Sato’s voice say. He glanced over to see the not unpleasant sight of her sitting by his bedside, whole and unwounded. “Are you all right?” she asked worriedly.

“I’m fine, I’m alive,” he muttered. “You?”

“They didn’t get a single hit on me, thanks to you,” she said with a teary smile. “But your right shoulder and gut both have holes, and you have a few more scrapes... nothing fatal, but...”

Wataru glanced over and groaned. “They put me in Shiratori’s room?”

“It’s two or three beds to a room and they probably thought you’d like to be with a familiar face,” Sato chuckled. “He’s out a lot of the time, though... he’s got no energy after having his stomach scraped empty, and all of his food’s in IV form for a while, until the poison’s worn off. He’s been awake long enough for us to give him the gist of the situation... he wants to help, once he’s out of bed.”

“I do feel kinda bad that he was poisoned by what was meant for _us..._ ” Wataru muttered guiltily. “We’re lucky it was just a drop... enough to save him. Kami, if he’d taken so much as a full sip...”

“He got lucky,” Sato sighed, “and so did you. But...” she looked away.

“What happened?” Wataru asked, suddenly fearful. Sato wasn’t normally the type to run from bad news. “Sato-san? What happened when I was out?”

“Superintendant Hakuba,” she said, more than a slight trace of anger in her voice. “He’s dead. A sniper got him—probably a pal of the guy who shot you. Our sniper escaped, the guy who got Superintendant Hakuba took a cyanide pill. We’ve got no leads, just an unidentified dead body...”

“Dammit,” Wataru hissed, fisting his hands, wincing as his right hand twinged. “So what’s happening now?”

“Well, they’re not getting at you in here, I can promise that,” a woman’s voice said. Takagi glanced over at the doorway as Sato stood up defensively.

“Jodie Saintemillion, right?” Wataru said in surprise. “Ran-kun’s English teacher?”

“And FBI, remember?” Jodie said, closing the door behind her. “I told you I was on break from working in the FBI, but that’s not strictly true. The organization that you’re dealing with is an incredibly dangerous one, one that we’ve been hunting for some decades. For a couple of years now, we’ve been focusing our investigation on Japan because we believe their boss to be based here. But we’ve been keeping the investigation quiet to avoid attention from the Japanese police... and their people in it. I’ve been talking to Hakuba-kun... I assume you two have as well?”

“Yeah,” Wataru said. “He was the first one to warn us about the kind of trouble we might get into by investigating Conan-kun’s case... and the Kuroba case. We don’t know how it’s connected, but...”

“They want Conan-kun and the Kuroba boy dead,” Jodie said, “among many, many, _many_ other people. But we need people in the police just like they do, and since you two are definitely clean...”

“Nakamori-keibu and Megure-keibu as well,” Sato said. “And Shiratori-kun.” She gestured to the pale, sleeping Shiratori.

“Yumi and Chiba can be trusted too,” Wataru said, “though let’s try not to get them involved…”

“No, not unless absolutely necessary,” Jodie agreed. “We’re trying to keep this as minimal an operation as possible. But there’ve been tons of them captured in about two dozen prefectures now, and many more have vanished entirely. What Hattori-kun started is a wave that’s got them scared and running. I have little doubt that they’ll regroup eventually, but they’ll have to start from square one for police influence, that ought to set them back... I’ll need to talk to you and see what you’ve got.”

“Go over to Hakuba-kun’s some time,” Sato said. “He’s got all the data stored... they must have thought it was his father’s work. That’s why...” She stopped, her voice sounding a little choked.

“Right,” Jodie said. “Anyway, the FBI are keeping an eye on you. We’re keeping an eye on the hospital anyway, since the Kuroba boy’s mother is still comatose on the floor above. You’re safe here, until you heal. Until then... I’m going to go talk to Hakuba-kun. The FBI needs to coordinate our efforts with the police. That way, we’ve got a good chance to deal them a major blow... heh,” she chuckled, giving a sad little smile.

“What’s so funny?” Wataru asked, confused.

“It’s just... they’ve already dealt us a major blow as well,” she said softly. “It’s taking dozens of us to devise a plan that’ll hurt these people... dozens of us to do what **Cool Kid** did all on his own...”

“You mean Conan-kun?” Sato said in surprise. “He...”

“That mind of his has hurt them before, driven them into corners,” Jodie said, almost proudly. “That’s why they took his memories. I don’t know who or what he is... but it’s incredible, whatever it is.”

“Yeah,” Sato said, “Conan-kun... he really is incredible.”

“I’d better get going,” Jodie said. “I’ve got another investigation to look into... watch your back, Sato-keiji.” With that, she left.

“So Conan-kun really has been working with the FBI...” Wataru said thoughtfully.

“He’s more than a kid, that’s for sure,” Sato agreed. “I just hope he’ll be all right... Ran-chan said that his memories were starting to return...”

“I just hope They don’t come back for him before they do,” Wataru said worriedly.

“Yeah...” Sato said thoughtfully. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Be careful,” Wataru said, taking her hand. “I mean... I wouldn’t want to get so banged up for nothing, after all...”

“Don’t worry, I won’t put your valiant efforts to waste,” Sato giggled, leaning over to kiss him on the forehead. “I am glad you’re all right, though. I thought my heart would stop when you collapsed...”

“Sorry, Sato-san,” Wataru sighed.

“You know... you could just call me Miwako,” Sato said, squeezing his hand. “Considering how often you’ve saved me... not always from crazy killers. So... I’d like you to call me by my name, you know... Wataru.”

Wataru could feel himself heating up, but he couldn’t help smiling as he squeezed her hand back. “Okay, then. Please, be safe... M-Miwako.”

This time she kissed him on the lips.


	64. The Grim Shadow

“There’s something wrong with all of this,” Hakuba said, slamming his hand down on the desk, the bullet in the bag rattling against the wood, “and I know just what it is.”

Five of them were gathered in the little study; Hakuba, Nakamori, Megure, Jodie and Yuusaku. Each of them wasn’t quite sure why at least one of the others was present, aside from that the Syndicate had to be stopped and they had a running chance at it.

“What is that?” Jodie asked in surprise.

“The bullet that killed my father,” Hakuba said. His voice was a little rougher than usual, and there was an unusual fire in his eyes, an anger unseen in the usually composed kokosei-tantei.

“This doesn’t look like a sniper bullet...” Nakamori said, picking up the bag and examining the bullet.

“How did you get that?” Megure said in surprise. “Deceased’s son or not, I don’t imagine that they’d let you wander in and start taking away evidence.”

“I can guess who did,” Yuusaku said at the odd, pinched look on Hakuba’s face, “and if we’re going to work each other, that means trusting each other—and _that_ means occasionally not asking how each other gets things.”

“I can live with that,” Nakamori said understandingly, handing the bag to Megure.

“Nakamori-kun’s right. It’s not a sniper bullet,” Megure said in surprise.

“It’s not,” Hakuba said sternly. “I talked to a prime witness. Only one of the three sniper bullets went into Chichi-ue’s office—here’s the other two.” He dropped another bag onto the desk. “That bullet smashed the glass, Chichi-ue and Yamashiro returned fire... then this bullet found its way into Chichi-ue’s head.”

“Then you’re saying that someone else shot your father—not the sniper,” Yuusaku summarised.

“Another one of Them...” Jodie said.

“But forensics said that it was a sniper bullet,” Nakamori said.

“Then the forensics guy who examined the bullet is one of Them,” Jodie snapped.

“Hold on a minute...” Megure said, pulling out his gun and ejecting the bullets. “Look...” He held up his bullet and the one in the bag. “This is a standard-issue bullet... a cop fired this.”

“And the only other cop in that room,” Hakuba said, almost snarling, “Was Yamashiro Yuuta. The new Superintendant General of the Tokyo Met.”

“He’s—?!” Nakamori said in surprise.

“I warned you that this went high,” Yuusaku said quietly. “Lucky this is as high as it goes...”

“What do you mean?” Megure said. “How do you know that they aren’t even higher? Kami, what if the _Commissioner_ —?!”

“He’s not,” Yuusaku said. “Think about it. They had people higher to repeatedly warn _you_ to stop investigating, Nakamori-kun, and Sato-kun and Takagi-kun too. They only went after Sato-kun and Takagi-kun because they openly ignored those warnings. If they had anyone higher up to demand that your father pull out of his investigations, then they would have done that first. But no such warning was received, was it?”

“No,” Hakuba said. “Chichi-ue had the Commissioner’s backing.”

“Exactly,” Yuusaku said. “They have no-one higher. That was why, for their aims to succeed... your father had to die.”

“But now They have control of the Tokyo Met!” Megure said in shock.

“They don’t have control of the entire Japanese police force,” Yuusaku said. “And like Hakuba-kun said, they don’t have the Commissioner. We take this evidence to the Commissioner and we can strike against Yamashiro. They don’t know that anyone thinks that anyone other than the sniper killed the Superintendant. This gives us an advantage. We get the Commissioner’s blessing to strike against Yamashiro, then we search and seize his house. That’ll allow us to find out who else is in the Tokyo Met, possibly even more. Because someone that they’d trust with this much power won’t be low-ranking scum like the rest.”

“Are those brains a family talent?” Jodie muttered, but she was smiling. “I’ll call James, we’ll get FBI information in as well. This one guy might have some valuable information...”

“We need to do it tomorrow or the day after, though,” Yuusaku said. “Before the heist on the twenty-fifth. They’ll have plans... They want Kid dead too. And I have little doubt that they’ll use the heist as an excuse not only to get Kid... but anyone else there who’s a problem for them. Nakamori-kun, Hakuba-kun...”

“They’re not getting us without a fight,” Nakamori growled. “We strike them first, then... Kid can fly for all I care. He’ll always be back, he can’t resist the limelight... and he won’t kill anyone to get it.”

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“Akako-sama?” the youkai asked, stepping aside to let the witch sweep past.

“Dammit!” she seethed. “Nothing! Hakuba-kun must be right—it’s a pure oral tradition, kept up by an eyewitness...” she lay down on her bed, lighting a sickly black candle. “Then I need to get into that eyewitness’ head to find out what and where it is—and how to destroy it.” She ignored the youkai servant’s questions, closing her eyes as the candle lit.

She had been shocked to feel death so near—in Hakuba Saguru’s household, of all places. And Death hadn’t left yet. He still had jobs lined up locally.

But these thoughts faded as she fell asleep...

 _Akako floated in the void. She didn’t know quite where she was, floating around a small red sun. There were shadows around her, but every so often they would flit off—or be_ pulled _off—into the shadows beyond the little orb of light around the sun. But nothing pulled Akako, and it was warm and comfortable near the sun, so she couldn’t be bothered leaving._

 _After a time, though, she was alone, and it grew a little_ too _warm. She shifted backwards, away from the heat, but it only grew hotter, brighter, burning and blinding her. Suddenly, the darkness was cool and inviting, but when she tried to reach it, she was blocked by a crystal cage. Akako floated all over, battering at the cage with her fists, but it was all around, unbreakable, keeping her near the sun. Then she looked up._

_Far above, slowly falling down, was a silver coin. It turned over and over as it fell, heads on both sides. As it fell, it span faster and faster, until the heads merged into one, and it just kept turning faster, warping and changing as it fell. The faces faded as the coin warped into the shape of a bullet, shooting towards the cage._

_It crashed through the crystal cage, curiously soundless—not so much as a tinkle as it silently smashed the cage apart. It fell past the sun and warped back into a coin, shining bright, illuminating the darkness. She pushed the burning red sun away, willing it to be consumed by darkness, feeling herself being consumed by the coolness. But the coin would be consumed too! Darkness was pressing in around the light..._

_Then there was another light._

_A figure flew past, formed of whiteness, of light, like an angel. She reached out, taking the shining coin in her hands, and held it close, smiling so beautifully. She and the coin shone, and lights shone everywhere, little lights, lonely lights, but as they pulled together, orbiting around the angel and the coin, their lights were enough to obliterate the darkness entirely, and ravens screamed and cawed as they died..._

_Then the dream changed. A voice said “and they all lived happily ever after,” as if reading a story, and it was a familiar voice, a voice Akako knew..._

Akako awoke.

She gasped, breathing heavily for a moment as the dream ran through her head. The black candle, half-burned, had split in two. She ran her hand through her hair, combing out some of the long purple strands, staring at the candle.

“That dream,” she said. “The full dream. The prophecy... but how?”

“Akako-sama, are you all right?” the youkai said worriedly. “It was several minutes after the candle snapped before you woke up...”

“What?” Akako said in surprise. The candle allowed her to tap into others’ dreams. When the candle snapped... that must have been when the dream changed. Then the last part, the voice...

“That was my own dream?” she said, bewildered. But it had been no prophecy. It had been more like... a memory...

“But I have no memories,” she whispered. “I abandoned them...”

“You know the price to regain your memories, Akako-sama,” the youkai said warningly. “You made your choice.”

 _Yes..._ Akako thought, staring at the scars on her wrist. _When even suicide failed... Lucifer gave me a way out and I chose it. But that a memory tried to return through a dream... do I_ know _something about the blood jewel?_ Did _I? Whatever it was, it is gone, and to regain it... would cost me everything... but..._

She remembered Kuroba Kaito’s face, staring down at his father’s grave, and Hakuba Saguru’s pale face as he told them that _his_ father was dead, and Aoko sitting at home all alone, and the faces on the angel and on the coin...

_For... them... Even if it cost me everything... If it would save them..._

She tipped her head back, staring at the ceiling, resisting the tears which fought to come. It was not time for that decision.

Not yet.

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“I wonder about taking a temporary antidote,” Ai said, showing Shinichi some strains that he’d taken before. “Being back in your own body might be conducive to regaining your memories... but we’ll need to watch our timing. There’s too much going on right now for daytripping.”

“Right...” Shinichi said, reading some of her APTX notes. Yuusaku and Ai had spent most of the day telling him about the Syndicate, or as much as they knew; he now knew most of what had known before about the Syndicate, but it was knowledge, not memories. And he still didn’t know everything that he’d known before. He felt that there were some things that he had probably kept secret, things that he had hidden even from those closest to him.

 _After all,_ he thought, staring at his reflection on Ai’s dark computer screen, _I even hid this._

“What do you plan to do until then?” Ai asked.

“I might go to Saguru-niichan... to Hakuba’s father’s funeral,” he said thoughtfully. “I want to go to the Kid heist, too. I want to talk to this guy.”

“Throwing yourself straight back into it, huh?” Ai said, with the tiniest of smiles. “How like you.”

“Hey, I am still me, even if I’m not always certain who that is,” Shinichi responded. “How can I let these guys get away?”

“You can’t,” Ai sighed. “That’s who you are... whatever you call yourself. That’s what’s so special about you, you know... it inspires people.”

“What?” Shinichi said, looking up at her.

“Haven’t you noticed?” Ai said. “The people fighting the Organization... or _capable_ of fighting it—seem to draw to you. And in your absence... they joined together. They came together because of you... they have the Organization on the run because of you.”

“I haven’t really done anything except get myself in a ton of trouble,” Shinichi grumbled.

“You’ve done more for the fight against the Organization than anyone really knows... most of all you, at the moment,” Ai said. “On top of that... you’re like a catalyst for the fall of the Organization. The balance was going to tip one way or another, by the time the comet comes this year... and with a few strikes, you managed to tip it from being _in_ the Organization’s favour to being against.”

“Comet?” Shinichi asked.

“The Pandora,” Ai explained. “The jewel that Kid is after. If They don’t get the jewel by the time the comet comes... it’s all over. I’m not sure why, but... you see? The greatest blow we can strike against them, the worst we can hurt them... may not even require us to do anything at all.” She looked him in the eye, smiling a little. “Changing the world doesn’t necessarily mean one person doing a huge thing, Kudo-kun. It can be lots of people doing little things. It adds up, like drops of water... until you have a river cutting through a mountain, or a tidal wave washing away a town. The Organization will rise or fall within the next few months, and either trend will be irreversible... all it will take to turn the tide is those drops going against the flow. And all because of you.”

“Haibara...” Shinichi said, staring at her. “You know... that’s a beautiful sentiment for someone who claims to only be an agent of darkness.”

Ai blushed. “You’ve been telling me that for two years, Kudo. I can’t change what I am...”

“It’s all little drops, Haibara,” Shinichi said with a smile. “Like you said... it can wear even you down.”

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Heiji stared at the two sketches, trying to make sense of them. He knew he should probably sleep, but the sketches wouldn’t get off of his mind, and anyway they’d be driving for several hours tomorrow; plenty of time to nap then. So instead he stared at the sketches, almost willing their meaning to come to him.

Eta meant little more to him than Veta had. _Seventh letter a’ the Greek alphabet, also the Greek number eight... does that mean anythin’? Lead ta the Latin H... Egyptian Tourist Authority, Electronic Travel Authority, Estimated Time a’Arrival, Eric the Actor... it was all in uppercase, but that don’t mean it’s an acronym, it coulda just been easier ta carve... it probably ain’t calculus or particle physics either, and Kudo ain’t the type ta slag the Burakumin... doubt it’s a german glider... Eta Carinae, maybe?_ It was possible. Just after he’d been found, Kudo had gotten absorbed in a news item on morning TV about some comet that was going to pass earth for the first time in a good few millennia; he hadn’t been able to explain why, other than that “it seems really interesting, and kind of familiar...” Ran had said that he must have seen it on TV at some point (Heiji had seen him use the “it was on TV” excuse more than once), but he’d ignored articles about the comet before. Had some clue to do with astronomy come up while he was kidnapped? Eta Carinae was a highly luminous hypergiant double star. V was a luminous hypergiant...

 _Prob’ly a metaphor fer somethin’,_ Heiji snorted. _It’s a code, after all, it ain’t gonna be straightforward... is V Vermouth? Seems kinda straightforward fer him, especially considerin’ how confusin’ the other halfa it is... ya could say that ‘e was just panicked over whatever th’ hell was happenin’ that made him lose ‘is memories, but a, that just ain’t Kudo, an’ b, both halves woulda still been consistent... so either Eta means somethin’ really simple, maybe somethin’ about Greek, or V means somethin’ way more complicated... either way, I’m missin’ bits a’ the puzzle._

He looked at the photo of the other sketch that Kudo had made. It was sloppy, and seemed to have been wiped over in places, like Kudo’s hand was unsteady when he’d drawn it. If not injured, then...? But Heiji pushed those thoughts and images aside, forcing himself to focus on the image.

 _A monocle surroundin’ a doublet..._ he thought, frowning as he stared at the image. _Does it mean Kid? Kid’s after this doublet? But the jewel’s drawn funny... those lines... are they facet lines, or cracks?_

He rubbed his forehead, trying not to stare at his tiny hands. _Damn, Kudo... ya got a twisted mind, great fer solvin’ codes, but when it comes down ta_ makin’ _the damn things, ya just don’t take us mere mortals inta account, do ya? Ya better get yer memory back soon, so I can find out what the hell is goin’ on..._


	65. Rendezvous

“... the sniper bullets then stopped, but it was too late...”

“What’d I miss?” Heizo muttered as he sat down next to Hakuba Saguru, who jumped. He was a little pale but otherwise composed.

“Hattori-keibu,” he whispered. “Is it true that your son is missing?”

“Officially, yes,” Heizo muttered. “First things first. Who’s he?”

“Yamashiro Yuuta, new Superintendant General of the Tokyo Met, Chichi-ue’s old deputy who was in a meeting with Chichi-ue when the sniper fired,” Hakuba muttered. “I’ll give you the real details later if you give me the real details on Hattori.”

“We’ll talk later,” Heizo agreed, turning his attention back to the speaker, narrowing his eyes.

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“Yes?” Agasa said, opening the door to the persistent ringers.

“Agasa-Hakase?” Kazuha said, glancing around nervously.

“Kazuha-kun?” Agasa said in surprise. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story but I bet ya can guess about halfa it,” a child’s voice said. Agasa glanced down at Heiji, then went whiter than his hair as he jumped.

“Kami above,” he whispered.

“Let us in, let us in,” Heiji said insistently, pushing past. “I’m feelin’ paranoid as hell fer some reason right now. Kudo an’ Haibara at school?”

“Er... as it happens, they’re playing hooky,” Agasa gasped, still looking like he was mid-heart attack. “Shinichi... he’s regained enough of his memory to realize that he’s not Edogawa Conan and, well... we told him the rest. Actually, Ran-kun did... it’s a long story.”

“Great, we can swap,” Heiji said, flopping down on the couch, pulling off the baseball cap that he’d pulled low over his face as he and Kazuha had run from his father’s car to Agasa’s door. Kazuha sat protectively next to him.

“The end result is that Shinichi is over at his house, looking through photo albums with Yukiko-kun and Ran-kun... Yuusaku-kun is shadowing the review over Hakuba-kun’s father’s death. Ai-kun was also going to play hooky to work on the drug research, but she ended up following Shinichi and Ran-kun... she was a little curious, I think,” he said with a very grandfatherly chuckle. “Plus, Yukiko-kun is insistent that she eats more, so she’s probably plying about five lunches on her. I should go get them... oh, but I ought to make some tea...”

“You go get them, I’ll make tea,” Kazuha offered. “Heiji, ya sit still, got it? Those bruised ribs need _rest_.”

“Yes, Ofukuro...” Heiji muttered, lying down on the couch and taking up all of one cushion. “Geez, this is _weird_...”

Still pale and stammering, Agasa-Hakase left. Kazuha started humming a little as she hunted down tea in the kitchenette.

 _Kami, I’m glad she’s all right,_ Heiji thought with a sigh. The worst moments had kept replaying in his head, the moment she went into the water, when the guy in the glasses had started shooting at her, the fear in her eyes in that very first moment when the guns had touched their backs...

 _If she’d been killed ‘cause of me... Kami, how could I have lived with that? Now I know just why Kudo was so completely freaked about Mori gettin’ mixed up in any of this..._ he realized what he was thinking and shook himself. _Hold on a mo. Kudo’s in_ love _with Mori. Kazuha’s just my friend, and she don’t deserve ta get mixed up in my messes..._

If she’d been killed, though...

“ _Marutake Ebisu Ni Ochi Oike…”_

“Oh, _hell_ no.”

Heiji jerked out of his thoughts to find Kudo staring at him from the doorway with an expression of utter shock, even more visible because he wasn’t wearing his glasses. It struck Heiji how different he looked without them—without them, it was very obvious that he was a tiny Kudo Shinichi. He wondered where he could get a pair.

“No shit, Sherlock,” he said instead, as Ai and Ran both appeared behind Kudo and both stopped stock still as they stared at Heiji. “How the hell did you get _used_ to this?”

“Can’t remember yet,” Kudo croaked, staring at Heiji. “Holy... I still didn’t quite believe it, it just sounded so _weird_ , but... Kami...”

“Three,” Ai said quietly. “Why us three alone?” then she stopped talking to herself as she narrowed her eyes on Heiji. “What _happened_ to you? _How_? I thought they’d stopped using it...”

“Evidently, they ain’t,” Heiji sighed. “They musta decided that it was just _too_ perfect fer untraceably killin’ off cops’ kids...”

“Hattori...” Kudo said, still sounding utterly shellshocked, “what did you _do_?”

Heiji shrugged. “I got noticed.”

“Ran-chan!” Kazuha came back through, Agasa following her with a tray of tea things. “This ahou scared me half to death, and then—I mean, I can hardly believe it—oh, Kami, I just...”

“Calm down, Kazuha-chan,” Ran said soothingly. “Trust me, I know _exactly_ how you feel...”

“And _you_!” Kazuha said angrily, confronting Kudo with an accusing finger. “You _lied_ to Ran-chan! You _hurt_ her, you know, you _ahou_ , and you—”

“Kazuha-chan, he doesn’t exactly have all of his memory back yet,” Ran said, standing between Kudo and Kazuha as Kudo backed away, looking confused and not a little upset.

“Umm... Ran...?” he said quietly, sounding more than a bit overwhelmed.

“Everybody calm down and have a little tea,” Agasa said as they made their way to seats around the coffee table, Ai giving Heiji the same calculating stare that he’d often seen her watching Kudo with.

“All right,” she said, “start talking—what exactly happened? Did anybody see you?”

“Don’t think so,” Heiji said with a shrug. “All right, it kinda started th’ day before yesterday, when me an’ Kazuha were headed home from school...”

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“... so that’s the truth of it,” Saguru said quietly, leading the way down the hospital corridors. “We just need to _expose_ that truth...”

“I see,” Heizo said, examining the bullet in the bag. “The Commissioner will be here for the funeral tomorrow. I’ll talk to him...”

“I’ll come with you,” Saguru insisted. “Nakamori-keibu and Megure-keibu ought to come as well, they identified the bullet... here we are.” He knocked on the door before entering.

Sato was there again, talking to both Takagi and Shiratori, the latter awake though very weak-looking. All three glanced up at the pair as they entered.

“Shiratori-keibu, Takagi-keiji, how are you feeling?” Saguru greeted them. “I see you’re still around too, Sato-keiji...”

“Can’t kill us if you tried,” Takagi said cheerily, “as several people can now vouch for...”

“I’d like you all to meet Hattori Heizo, chief of the Osaka Police,” Saguru said, indicating Heizo. “Hattori-keibu, this is Sato Miwako-keiji, Takagi Wataru-keiji and Shiratori Ninzaburo-keibu, all of the 1st Investigative Division—all targets of the Organization, albeit in Shiratori-keibu’s case by accident.”

“I’ve offered to help the FBI in coordinating a strike against police infiltrators such as the one that we pulled in Osaka,” Heizo explained. “Which means that I’ll need your cooperation as well... well, Sato-san’s, at any rate. It doesn’t look like either of you gentlemen will be going anywhere anytime soon...”

“Nah, they were clean shots. I’ll be out in a couple of weeks,” Takagi said dismissively.

“I’m out of here as soon as they let me have solids,” Shiratori growled weakly.

“The plan is to arrest Yamashiro and search and seize his house and possessions,” Saguru explained. “He’ll have data on every other infiltrator in the Tokyo met, possibly more, and we’ll be able to use that to strike against everywhere else. Sato-san, will you and Megure-keibu lead the search and seizure as soon as we can secure a warrant?”

“Try and stop me,” Sato snarled. “I’ll turn his house upside down.”

“Oh, yes...” Saguru remembered, “I’ve been, eh, warned that data on these people cannot be taken off of their computers, so you may have to hack any passcodes that he’s put up... Kudo-sensei has requested to come with you for that reason.”

“He’s still in Japan?” Takagi said in surprise.

“No problem with that,” Sato said with a shrug.

“That man’s up to something all of his own,” Heizo muttered. “If only he felt inclined to share it with the world...”

“Whatever it is, I doubt it’s any good for the Organization, and that’s good enough for me,” Saguru said. “After all... in some ways he’s in the same position as you, eh?” Heizo nodded tersely.

“Because your sons are both Kokosei-tantei?” Takagi asked.

“Something like that,” Heizo replied.

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“... an’ so here I am,” Heiji said, waving a tiny hand. “Now tell me ya got some breakthroughs recently, ‘cause I sure as hell ain’t goin’ through kiddy school again...”

“Not really,” Kudo said with a shrug. “We’re still on the temporary stuff, right, Haibara... Haibara?”

Ai looked deep in thought, ignoring Kudo completely.

“Ai-chan?” Ran asked, leaning over to look at her.

“There’s something, I just know it,” Ai muttered, “there must be something about us three that’s different from those who died, it can’t be purely random, not given how set the effect is... not gender issues, obviously...”

“We’ll leave ya to it,” Heiji said with a shrug. “More importantly, Kudo—ya left two messages at the place ya were hidden, an’ I’m hopin’ that ya got enough a’ yer memory back ta remember what they mean ‘cause we sure as hell can’t figure it out...”

“Let me see,” Kudo said, holding out his hand. Heiji passed over the photograph, with “V=ETA” written on the back. He stared at the photograph.

“Broken jewel and a monocle...” he said with a frown. “That jewel... it’s the Pandora thing that you told me about, right, Haibara?”

“Pandora?” Heiji said in confusion.

“... Which they didn’t know about...” Ai said with a sigh, only slightly surfacing from her deep thoughtfulness.

“It’s a jewel,” Kudo said. “A doublet that supposedly grants immortality. Kid’s been trying to destroy it, that’s how he got mixed up in all of this... that might be what it is: Kid’s true target is the Pandora’s destruction. Look, those are shatter lines, not facet lines.”

“Does th’ jewel have anythin’ ta do with astronomy?” Heiji asked.

“It supposedly fell from a comet ten thousand years ago, and only grants immortality at the comet’s pass,” Kudo said. “How’d you know?”

“It could be Eta Carinae, then...” Heiji said thoughtfully. “The other message, it’s written on the back,” he added to Kudo’s look of confusion. Kudo flipped the picture over, staring at “V=ETA”.

“...not an ethnicity issue...” Ai was muttering, then she stared at Kudo. “Kudo-kun?”

Heiji, who had been refilling his teacup, glanced up. Kudo’s knuckles had gone white as he gripped the picture tight enough to crush it. His _face_ had gone deathly white, staring at the message, his eyes wide. He didn’t seem to be breathing.

“Shinichi?” Ran said, shaking his shoulders. “ _Shinichi!_ ”

“Eta,” he breathed. “Eta... and Ushi...”

Then his eyes rolled up into his head as he passed out.

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**_ Twenty-Three Years Ago _ **

_“I didn’t know you drew, Sharon-chan,” Toichi said, glancing at the sketchpad._

_“I’m a woman of many talents,” she said with a wink. “This is one I prefer to keep to myself...”_

_“That’s a cute picture, though,” Toichi said thoughtfully. “The children playing in a field...”_

_“It’s after a story I heard, a long time ago,” Sharon said, twirling her pen in her fingers, “about two very special children...”_

_“What’s so special about them?” Toichi said, quirking a little smile._

_“They’re special to the whole world,” she said with a little smile of her own. “They’re the Hope from Pandora’s Box...”_

_“Sorry I’m late!” Yukiko trilled as she bounced into the clubroom. “Sensei kept me behind because I got a red mark... It’s not_ my _fault that we lost a major scene when the tape got overexposed... re-filming went on so long that I never had time to finish my physics homework, but really, is that_ my _fault?”_

_Sharon_ _laughed, tucking away her sketchbook. Toichi smiled too as he started pulling wig materials out of his bag. Fujimine Yukiko, on top of her dramatic talents, really did have a talent for lightening the mood, as if her bubbly personality was too much for one girl and so was projected onto everyone else in the immediate vicinity. She even always managed to make the often-stern Sharon smile._

_And it was because of that that Toichi, for a very long time, forgot all about the special children._

_Until he found out who Sharon was._

_Until one day, after a heist, quite by chance, he heard one of them talking to “Vermouth”—Sharon._

_Until he heard him say that it was not a story, but a prophecy—and the only way to circumvent it was to kill the children that she’d seen._

_Until he found out about the Pandora legend._

_Until he saw the children with his own eyes._


	66. The Darkest Hour

Gin didn’t move as the motorcycle skidded to a halt a few feet away from him. Only the slightest narrowing of his eyes and a fresh pull of his cigarette indicated that he had acknowledged the presence of its rider, now shaking out her long hair as she pulled the helmet off. She stepped off of the bike and offered him a beautifully sculpted smile.

“Gin,” she said pleasantly. “To what do I owe your late-night solicitations?” She glanced around the secluded dockyard. “Early morning, rather. I presume that it’s important. Even Chianti and Korn are here.” She waved at the near-invisible figure that had been watching her—not as covertly as she’d thought—from the top of a storage crate. Chianti hissed at Vermouth, jerking her rifle in a way that indicated that, if her hands had been free, she would have been making a _very_ rude gesture.

“Merely precautions.” Gin spat out the dog-end of his cigarette, grinding it beneath his heel.  “So, Vermouth; what happened to the young Tantei that we were asked to neutralise?”

Vermouth gave him a look of cool surprise. “I found him. Unless he’s found some way to pause his pulse for a good five minutes, he’s... neutralised. I could have sworn I’d told you already... Is that all you wanted to ask?”

“You found him near the banks of the river?” Gin said, straightening up from the slouch he’d held against the car.

“Practically on them. Dead bodies don’t wash that far ashore.”

“Then what I heard on the police radios is very odd,” he mused aloud, “because apparently, the Chief of Police has ordered a manhunt for his missing son, and the river and every inch of ground for some miles around has been thoroughly scoured… and yet, no traces have been found.”

Vermouth shrugged. “Perhaps there was a flash flood and he washed away again. The corpse could well be out to sea by now. Did you clean up the girl before you left, by the way?”

“Well, that’s the funny thing,” Gin sneered. “She’s vanished—at the very same time that the Chief came to Tokyo for the Superintendant’s funeral. Is it not strange that the Chief of Police would abandon Osaka when his own son is missing, friend’s funeral or not? Yet he’s left, the girl has vanished—even though, officially, she’s been found. The body hasn’t been found, even though you assured me that _you_ had seen it. Either the police lied about finding the body, or it’s been covered up... rather like Kudo Shinichi.”

 “You think I lied about the boy.” It wasn’t a question. Vermouth sighed as if disappointed. “You think I found him alive and left him that way. Now what reason would I have for doing that?”

“I wouldn’t know, Vermouth,” Gin replied. He tightened his hand around the cool metal handle of his gun, his fingers lacing themselves around the trigger. “A lot of your actions are seemingly without reason. For example, disguising yourself as a high-school doctor to find Sherry. Or returning two months later, bruised and bleeding and silent. Whatever you did brought Akai Shuuichi on your trail and left Calvados dead, and yet you say nothing about it. Your periodic disappearances. The information—rather _vital_ information—that you withheld from Snakebite.”

“I never imagined that the boy would follow in his father’s footsteps, or even know that they existed,” Vermouth said airily. “Back then, I thought it too extraneous to silence him.”

“But now? You, alone of all of us, must have known who the Kaitou Kid was now, and yet you let us chase a ghost.”

“You still are, from what I heard,” she laughed. His fingers twitched around the trigger. Like many people who lived their lives in secrecy, he hated having secrets kept from him. He didn’t trust Vermouth—he’d be stupid to trust _anybody_ —but he was determined to get the truth from her, one way or another. “You really think that Kudo Shinichi is alive?”

“Perhaps the two strangest things of all, Vermouth,” he continued, as a form of reply, “was your protection of Mori Kogoro, and your ambiguous replies about Kudo Shinichi. I did a little digging, and Kudo has been known to frequent the Mori Detective Agency—in fact, his high school class was the same as Mori’s daughter. They’re connected. You know something about him, I can tell… but _you_ won’t. What are you hiding?”

“Why would I hide anything from you, Gin?” Vermouth said, smiling sweetly. “I’ve never met Kudo Shinichi. I’d simply forgotten about Kuroba Kaito. And as for the Osaka boy—how could he have survived the apotoxin? No-one else has.”

Gin’s face didn’t move a muscle as he drew his gun, levelling it at her head. “I have increasing reason to believe that Kudo Shinichi did, Vermouth. There are too many suspicious trails connecting to him, too many that coincide with Sherry’s escape. You knew, didn’t you? Don’t pretend that you didn’t.” He cocked the gun, sliding a bullet into the chamber. “You’ve been hiding things from the Syndicate for long enough. You’re a danger. You know my policy on second chances, Vermouth. Where is Kudo Shinichi? What really happened to the Osaka boy? Oh, and while we’re on the subject...” he released the safety. “ _What the hell are you up to_? All of your secrets... I have no time for secrets. You _know_ where Sherry is. Why would _you_ , of all people, hide her?”

“You’ve never had time for _anyone’s_ secrets,” she sighed enigmatically. “Well, what can I tell you? What _should_ I tell you? I don’t see why what I do is any of your business. You’re a little paranoid, Gin. The **Silver Bullet** is dead—” she made the tiniest of head gestures towards the shadows between two more crates, where Kir watched with narrowed eyes and a thoughtful look on her face—“so what is there to fear?”

“I’ve never heard a rule saying that there can be only one Silver Bullet,” Gin said dangerously. “ _Where is he_ , Vermouth?”

“Would you really shoot me, Gin?” Vermouth said, waving her hand frivolously at its silenced barrel. “Anokata—”

“—Wouldn’t know,” Gin said. “There is no-one here who would want to protect _your_ filthy life. With the FBI involved, quite a few of the Cabinet have died in the past few years... would one more be so surprising?”

He locked eyes with Vermouth, her gaze cold enough to match his own, a playful smile still lingering on her lips. It remained, frozen, as she slowly keeled over backwards, propelled over the edge of the dock and into the sea by the force of the single bullet expelled silently from the Beretta and into her skull.

There was silence as Gin clicked the safety back on and slipped the gun into his pocket. Vodka was staring in some shock at the calming ripples in the sea. Kir remained silent in the shadows. Chianti and Korn were climbing down from the crates, heading for their motorcycles.

“Damn you, Gin,” Chianti eventually said, as she put her rifle back into its holster. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Korn was, as ever, silent, but he did seem to be smiling ever so slightly. Kir walked over to the small splash of blood that had escaped Vermouth’s head before she hit the sea. She stood, facing away from the others, regarding it silently.

“What about you, Kir?” Chianti said. “If you _dare_ tell Anokata about this...”

“I’m just going to clean up here,” Kir replied without turning. “As for Vermouth—why should I care whether she lives or dies? Sounds like she was a rat. And you know how I feel about rats.” She looked back at them, grinning widely, the first rays of light from paling horizon reflecting from her teeth.

 “We’d better help Snakebite and Schnapps clean up their messes,” Gin said, sitting in the passenger side of his antique Porsche.  “I don’t care how close to completing Project Pandora we are. Snakebite needs to learn a little about subtlety, particularly when dealing with the Kaitou Kid. If he’s not careful, I’m putting a bullet in his brain too.”

“What about those cops that Schnapps is onto?” Vodka asked.

“They’ll get theirs,” Gin said coldly.

The antique engine revved, practically purring as the two drove away, heading for Beika City.

“But are you really sure that she was lying, Aniki?” Vodka said. “After all, Kudo Shinichi wasn’t at that monster party after all, was he?”

“No,” Gin said, “but who was it really?”

“It was...” then Vodka realized. “That dark-skinned Hattori brat!”

“Precisely,” Gin said quietly. “The only two unconfirmed deaths were both APTX deaths, of kokosei-tantei who were clearly connected somehow... one was confirmed by Sherry, a traitor who escaped with some mystery man’s help, and the other was confirmed by Vermouth, who we have absolutely no reason to believe was telling the truth. Which means they’re alive... and that is a problem.”

“So what do we do, Aniki?” Vodka asked worriedly.

“We solve the problem,” Gin said softly, dangerously, clutching his gun in his pocket.

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“...was an example to us all,” the Commissioner said to those assembled. “His legacy of justice, I’m sure, will long outlive him, proudly upheld by his successor...”

“Do you have it?” Saguru hissed into his mobile.

“ _Yuusaku-san’s just having a look at the password now. I have to say, I’m glad he came. You need a twisted, twisted mind to figure these out..._ ”

“... which is why, to Yamashiro Yuuta, I would like to say...” Yamashiro stood up proudly. Heizo tensed.

“ _Got it! Oh, man, this guy’s going down_ forever...” Saguru nodded to Heizo, who leaned over to whisper in the Commissioner’s ear. The man nodded, and then continued talking.

“... that you are under arrest for the murder of Hakuba Mamoru,” he finished, nodding to Heizo, who cuffed the bastard as his jaw hit the stage.

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Kaito burst into laughter, slipping away from the murmuring and confused crowd, trying to avoid catching the eyes of Aoko and Akako, who were standing at the edge of the crowd, one crying, the other only watching the arrest through narrowed eyes. He couldn’t help loving the expression on Yamashiro’s face as the cuffs went around his wrists. _See, the cops can be sneaky bastards too..._ He glanced up at the sky. _Is it raining? I thought it was forecast to be dry..._

It was nice to see _something_ going right; the world had been getting increasingly bizarre for the past month, so much so that he had genuinely not been surprised that Edogawa Conan would happen to be Kudo Shinichi—it certainly explained a lot about the freaky kid. He felt proud that the arrest had gone off without a hitch, the murder being avenged. And with that bastard’s data, they’d have dozens of others in custody in no time.

 _If they get Snake and his pals too, it’ll make tomorrow night a lot easier on me,_ he thought, strolling on, looking like any normal commuter. _It’s doubtful, but... well, fingers crossed. I can work with them being there, after all..._

He had a plan for getting into the museum tomorrow; risky as hell, entirely dependent on the fact that the only people who’d be able to see through it would keep quiet, but hey, since when was he known for playing it safe?

 _The big problem’s that it’s a new moon tomorrow night,_ he thought with a frown, _which means I won’t be able to check it... it’ll be hidden for a while. Still, actually getting to it before Snake does is the priority. Then... maybe I oughta talk to Kudo again... I wonder how his memory’s doing?_

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“Nnn...” Shinichi slowly blinked awake, trying to make sense of the jumble of images that had flashed through his head. He’d remembered something about... “Eta”...

_“Then it’s time for a story. This story starts ten thousand years ago, when the holy jewel Pandora fell to earth. It was found at the bottom of a crater in the middle of a forest. It was found by a girl... a young lady named Eta.”_

_A hand around his throat, something bitter but sweet pouring down his throat, like the reverse of a temporary cure, freezing everything as it went, and a long period of cold followed by a terrible fever..._

_Strange images danced before his eyes, and he tried to scratch them away, scratching them into the dirt, feeling his mind slipping away bit by bit, desperate to leave a message..._

_And Eta was there, like she’d always been, a cooling hand on his forehead..._

_“Is Ushi coming?”_

_“Not anymore.”_

_There was someone else, a ghost, a vaguely familiar face, following Eta, calling, apologising..._

_Then blankness..._

“Eta... and Ushi...” he muttered. “Was that... when I was kidnapped?”

“Shinichi? Oh, thank Kami.”

He glanced over to see her sitting next to his bed. “Ran...?”

“You collapsed, do you remember?” she said, her face pale.

“Unusually, yeah,” he said, smiling a little, trying to cheer her up. “I just... that word, Eta, it was a really strong trigger... how long have I been out?”

“You were out for the rest of the day, and all night too. I just came over again this morning,” Ran said, indicating the clock. He was in his room. “You missed Hakuba-kun’s father’s funeral, but it went all right. Yamashiro was arrested, and _your_ father cracked a lot of his computer passwords, so they have some invaluable data. People are still being arrested as we speak.”

“I was out for _that_ long?!” Shinichi said in surprise. He was even more surprised to see a couple of futons taking up most of his floor.

“Hattori-kun and Kazuha-chan are staying here for a while,” Ran explained. “For official purposes, Hattori-kun’s father is staying over at Hakuba-kun’s...”

“All right...” Shinichi sat up, hopping out of bed. His head spun for a moment, but by the time he had finished wiping sleep from his eyes, he felt fine.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Ran said, standing up, hands out to catch him if he collapsed again.

“I’m fine, it was just information overload, that’s all,” Shinichi insisted. “I remembered... sort of... some of the stuff that happened when I was kidnapped. Koizumi-san was right. Vermouth made me drink something, that must have been Amnesial... there was also a story about the people who found the Pandora ten thousand years ago... Eta and Ushi. I can’t remember clearly, but I think... I think I saw Eta, though I can’t remember her face. I just remember seeing someone and knowing, somehow, that she was Eta...”

“She’s still alive?” Ran gasped.

“If Pandora really does grant immortality, then no wonder,” Shinichi said. “I would find that bizarre if my bizarre scale wasn’t completely and utterly totalled by now...”

Voices from the living room became audible as they walked down the stairs. Shinichi was surprised to hear how sternly his father was talking... and also Jodie’s voice, terse and angry.

“What’s happened?” he asked, sticking his head around the door. The three adults glanced around, Yukiko looking confused as to whether or not to cry.

“ **Cool Kid** ,” Jodie greeted him. “How’re you doing?”

“Are you feeling all right, Conan-kun?” Yuusaku asked. Shinichi got the message. _She doesn’t know. Probably_ _why Hattori, Kazuha-san and Haibara have all made themselves scarce..._

“I’m all right, bits and pieces of my memory coming back,” he said. “Jodie-sensei, did something happen?”

“Do you remember who Vermouth was?” Jodie asked.

Shinichi nodded, then froze. “What do you mean by _was_?” he asked tentatively.

“I got a call from Kir,” Jodie said. “She’s dead. Gin shot her in the early hours of this morning.”


	67. Regrouping

“Waitaminnit, Waitaminnit,” Heiji squeaked. “Ya mean that psycho bitch... is _dead_?”

“Unless she’s devised some way to survive a bullet in the skull, yeah,” Shinichi confirmed.

“Wouldn’t put it past her,” Ai croaked. She was pale, but it seemed to be a mix of disbelief and sheer relief. The one that she’d feared most... was dead...

“I can hardly believe it,” Yukiko said, shaking her head, her voice a little thick. Shinichi recalled that he’d been told that his mother and Sharon Vineyard, one of Vermouth’s aliases, had been dear friends—at least, Yukiko had _thought_ that they’d been dear friends. It had been a shock to her to find that one of her closest friends, whom she’d thought had died in an accident, was live and killing.

“Infighting,” Yuusaku mused. “They don’t trust each other... they’re cracking from the inside and out.”

“But that’s good, ain’t it?” Kazuha asked. “I mean, it’s sad that someone else has been murdered, but if this lot are fallin’ apart...”

“That’s true,” Ran agreed. Her eyes had been brimming with tears ever since Jodie broke the news, but she was resolutely determined not to cry. “Have they gotten all of them out of the police?”

“They’ve got everyone in Tokyo who hasn’t run,” Yuusaku confirmed, “and nearly every other prefecture now has held purges... Of course, they’re far more than just infiltrators. Schnapps is the highest-ranking member that we have in custody, and he’s been mute ever since arrest...”

“But they’ll turn up at the Kid heist tonight, won’t they?” Shinichi pointed out.

“Nakamori-keibu’s calling on major security for it,” Yuusaku said. “It’s not been difficult, as that diamond _is_ immensely valuable.”

“Have you got plans for the exhibition hall where it’s being kept?” Shinichi asked.

“I was going over to Hakuba-kun’s right now for just that purpose,” Yuusaku said. “Are you coming?”

“Try and stop me,” Shinichi snorted.

“I’d love ta come too,” Heiji sighed, “but, y’know...”

“Yer more distinctive than Kudo,” Kazuha pointed out, “so you ain’t goin’ anywhere fer a while.”

“An’ what about you?” he said pointedly.

“Someone’s gotta stop ya from gettin’ yourself into even _more_ trouble,” Kazuha huffed, though her cheeks pinked a little.

“I’m going to head home,” Ran said, squeezing Shinichi’s hand. “Okaa-san and Otou-san will probably still be arguing again, but the important thing is that Okaa-san’s _still_ here to argue... odds are looking good that she might end up staying!”

“That’s great!” Yukiko squealed. “Good luck, Ran-chan!”

“See you later,” Shinichi called, following Yuusaku out.

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“I just can’t believe it,” Jodie muttered for the millionth time.

“I’m still not sure whether you’re happy or angry,” Shinichi said dryly.

“Well, I can’t help being glad that that bitch got what was coming to her,” Jodie sighed, “but we really needed her alive for information... and a million life sentences... besides, I can’t help almost wishing that I’d done it myself...”

“You’re in a long queue, I’m sure,” Yuusaku said.

“Nakamori-keibu and Megure-keibu aren’t coming,” Hakuba said, striding into the study where they were meeting. “Nakamori-keibu’s already checking things over at the museum—I think he’s going for pure, brute force, not that that’s ever stopped the Kid, but then he’s not the priority—and Megure-keibu’s deep into the interrogations, along with Sato-keiji and Hattori-keibu. Megure-keibu did say that he’d run into a friend of his who’d be there, though.”

“Who?” Yuusaku asked out of interest.

Hakuba just shrugged, rolling out a map. “He was very tight-lipped about it, I’m afraid. All right, the diamond’s being stored in the new conservatory level on the top floor.”

“In other words, a room high up in the air made up almost entirely of easily smashable glass,” Shinichi said dryly.

“Not quite,” Hakuba said, pulling out some specifications. “It’s bulletproof glass—not the best, that’s too expensive to build an entire conservatory level out of—but strong enough to deal with Kid unless he brings a shotgun.”

“We can’t speak for the Syndicate, though,” Jodie pointed out.

“They tend to go for more subtle approaches, such as snipers,” Hakuba said, “and officers have fortified all of the surrounding buildings as well as the museum itself. Any snipers will be caught as they approach, unless they’re capable of hitting a man from 650 yards away.”

“Unlikely,” Yuusaku said. “And in any case, as you pointed out, capturing Kid is not the primary consideration...”

“So will you two be there?” Hakuba asked.

“I will,” Shinichi said.

“I have other plans,” Yuusaku said. “After all, once he escapes, I’ll need to talk to him.”

“Expect FBI presence,” Jodie said, pointing to herself. “Besides, I’ve never been to a Kid heist before...”

“Then I suppose we’d better head for the museum before it gets dark,” Hakuba sighed. “Since we still haven’t figured out precisely when he’s coming, we can only presume that it will be some time when the moon—or lack thereof—is in the sky...”

“I’d put it at sometime after midnight,” Yuusaku said. “Midnight to 3am.”

“Really?” Hakuba asked. “Why?”

“The circling ravens,” Yuusaku explained. “It has a double meaning, as usual. The reference to the Syndicate is only noticeable to us. To the world at large, what would it suggest?”

“Witchcraft, right?” Jodie said.

“Oh, I see,” Hakuba realized. “ **The Witching Hour.** Traditionally midnight, though could also refer to the period between midnight and 3am, which is the ‘Devil’s Hour’. Kuroba always was deeply fond of western culture, both pop and traditional...”

“But will the Syndicate have noticed that?” Shinichi pointed out. “His plans may be brought forward if They strike first, which is possible...”

“Probable, I should say,” Yuusaku commented. “You’d better be prepared...”

“We’ll see you later, then,” Hakuba said, heading down to Jodie’s car. Jodie and Shinichi followed.

Yuusaku walked out to his own car, watching Jodie drive the other two away. He wouldn’t show it, but he was deeply worried about this heist. Not only because of what had happened at the last heist—Kami, that was an unforeseen level of disaster—but because there was so much that was probably going to go wrong even if things went to plan, so many bullets that would fly.

He pulled out his mobile, quickly dialling a number before he started driving. It picked up after the first ring. The person on the other end didn’t have a lot to do.

“The police ring for snipers stretches for 650 yards,” he said. “Are you planning to be there?”

“ _Of course. By the way, is it true about Vermouth?_ ”

“Apparently. Kir really did see the bullet go into her forehead, so even though they haven’t found the body yet...”

“ _Assume nothing until the body is found. Trust me on this._ ”

“All right... you know what you’re doing, I trust, even if no-one else does.”

“ _I could say the same about you._ ”

Yuusaku smiled slightly as the other end hung up, putting away his mobile and driving away.

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Crowds had already amassed before the museum, kept about a hundred metres away from the building by a thick line of police in riot gear. Shinichi heard a voice, somehow more noticeable to him than the others, cry “ **I’m no’ bloody well missin’ this one!** ” followed by a satirical chorus of “ **No I don’ wanna miss a tha-ang...** ” the voices sounded faintly familiar, but he couldn’t place them.

“Nakamori-san!” Hakuba called, greeting a teenage girl who was standing just inside the doorway, chatting to a couple of cops whom she evidently knew. As she turned, it struck Shinichi that she looked rather like a short-haired version of Ran. She was also a bit pale and thin-looking, as if she hadn’t been eating right recently, something which Hakuba evidently noticed. “Are you feeling all right, Nakamori-san? I hope you haven’t been worrying yourself too much...”

“I’m fine,” she insisted. Then she leaned down with a smile to greet Shinichi. “Nice to see you, Conan-kun! How are you doing? I’m sorry I never came to see you since you came back, but I’ve had... other things on my mind, you know?”

“It’s all right,” Shinichi insisted. “I’m doing fine. I’ve got bits and pieces of my memory back, but not much...”

“I guess I’d better reintroduce myself,” she said. “I’m Nakamori Aoko. Otou-san’s in charge of the Kid investigation.”

“Hajimemashite, Aoko-neechan,” Shinichi said, finding it natural enough to affect a ‘kiddy’ act; Hakuba looked faintly amused, now that he knew that it was an act. “Can we see where the diamond is?”

“Sure,” she said, leading them to the stairs. “Oh, and you are?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, how rude of me,” Jodie said, shaking Aoko’s hand. “I’m Jodie Starling, FBI. We decided to have a little presence on a Kid heist, both because he’s on _our_ wanted lists too and because of the gunplay at the last heist...”

“Yeah, that was horrible,” Aoko said with a shudder. She glanced at Shinichi. “In many ways... Conan-kun, stay here this time, all right? It was really horrible for a moment when we thought you were under the chandelier when it fell. Then when you actually vanished...”

“That was... when I was kidnapped, right?” Shinichi said tentatively. He still didn’t have any proper memories of being kidnapped; only the flashes from when he was made to drink the Amnesial. The thought of Eta had triggered _something_ , though, as had the Pandora. P _erhaps it was the story that she was telling me... Vermouth... that story was about Eta and the Pandora, right?_ Ran had also said that he’d said something like “Ushi”, but he couldn’t remember what that meant, though he felt that it was connected to Eta and the Pandora.

“Impressive view,” Jodie said, whistling appreciatively as they entered the conservatory level. Through the surrounding windows, Shinichi could see Tokyo stretching away for miles, the sunset sinking below the buildings to the west. Officers surrounded the hall, a line of them around the walls/windows, several around the elevators and doorway to the stairwell, and several more around each of the exhibits displayed on the top floor. The diamond was to the west of the centre of the room, and Nakamori-keibu and a number of officers were around it, talking quietly.

“Oh, Megure-keibu said that a friend of his was coming,” Hakuba asked. “Have they arrived?”

“Ah, yes, actually!” Aoko said. “I got a surprise, but... Otou-san! Hakuba-kun and Conan-kun are here... and agent Starling, from the FBI...”

“Oh yes, they did say there’d be one of you here,” Nakamori noted, stepping back from the diamond case. “How are you doing, Conan-kun? And listen, don’t you _dare_ leave the hall this time, it was bad enough telling your uncle that you were gone _once_...”

“Don’t worry!” Shinichi said brightly. “I already promised Aoko-neechan that I’d stay!”

“You’d better. Kaa-chan was really terrified when you vanished...”

 _Oh, he didn’t..._ Shinichi thought in shock as another figure turned to face them. He heard Hakuba’s breath hiss in surprise.

“Do you remember Kudo Shinichi-kun?” Aoko asked Shinichi, indicating the guy. “Oh, and you haven’t met him, right, Hakuba-kun?”

“Hakuba Saguru, right?” the guy said, holding out a hand to shake a suspicious Hakuba’s. “I’ve heard about you from Hattori. Not a lot complimentary, I have to say...”

“Hajimemashite, Shinichi-niichan,” Shinichi said, looking him in the eye. Kid winked.

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“What on earth is Kuroba up to?” Hakuba muttered to Shinichi sometime later, watching the thief as he strode around the room, glancing over the police officers.

“Just a good plan to get in, I guess,” Shinichi muttered back. “He looks a lot like me anyway, right? So this gets him past the face-checks, no problem—”

“He’s just lucky that they don’t check for hair gel.”

“Yeah... anyway, the only people that are going to catch him out will be people like us, who have bigger priorities.”

“The Organization,” Hakuba agreed. “They won’t pass this up.”

“Hell no, just _look_ at that thing,” Shinichi agreed, standing on tip-toe to peer at the huge diamond. “It’s been hidden underground for a good five hundred years, and it’s definitely big enough to be a doublet...”

“They say that the sniper ring has spotted three people, but I’m not convinced,” Hakuba continued quietly. “They turned up too conspicuously and then vanished too completely. It’s too obvious.”

“It’s a blind,” Shinichi agreed. “They must have something else planned. They want us to let our guard down...”

“It’s past eleven, though,” Hakuba pointed out. “Either they’re going to act soon, or Kuroba is.”

Shinichi watched as Kaito stride over to talk to Aoko. The thief was hovering almost protectively over her, between her and the row of officers. He was also scanning the room out of the corner of his eye, suddenly seeming tense, alert. Shinichi was wondering why, following his glance around the room, when his phone rang.

“Moshi moshi?” he said as he picked up.

“ _Shinichi, this is urgent. Get every police officer out of the conservatory level_ now.”

“Why?” Shinichi hissed in surprise. “I thought we had all of the infiltrators...”

“ _We did, but that’s no good against one-nighters._ ”

“Come again?”

“ _Look, a dozen dead cops were just found at the bottom of the Teimuzu, uniforms stolen but ID cards not. Given how much extra security Ginzo-kun’s laid on, for a dozen men in uniform with forged IDs, it wouldn’t be difficult to get in with the crowd..._ ”

Shinichi’s breath froze as he realized. He looked up at Hakuba.

“They’re here!” he hissed. “We have to tell Nakamori-keibu—”

Then Kaito pushed Nakamori and Aoko to the floor as gunfire erupted all around the room.


	68. Myoclonus

Shinichi gasped in shock as half of the officers in the room opened fire on the other half. The gunfire flew at head-height—far over _his_ head—but Hakuba pushed him down anyway as he hit the dirt half a second after Kuroba had. The real officers, taken by surprise, hadn’t stood a chance. Shinichi closed his eyes for a second, willing himself not to watch the bodies fall.

The dead lying still, six of Them set to work using display plinths and priceless vases to block the door. The elevator lights were off, having been deactivated an hour ago—as a defence against Kid, of course. Nakamori leapt to his feet, incandescent with rage, drawing his pistol, but four more surrounded him, Kaito and Aoko, raising far more substantial weaponry, forcing him to drop his gun. Two more came to Shinichi and Hakuba, using their guns to indicate that they should stand.

“We’ve got five, sir,” one of the men said as the five of them lined up by the diamond.

“That’s plenty. We’re going to need a hostage situation to get out of here,” a man with a handlebar moustache, evidently the leader, said coldly. Then, without warning, he raised his gun and shot Kaito in the chest. The thief pivoted on his heel, a brief expression of shock visible on his face before he fell face-down to the floor, thick red liquid beginning to pool around his body. Aoko screamed, and Nakamori put his arm around her shoulders, holding her back, staring at the body.

“What the hell was that for?!” Hakuba demanded angrily, his knuckles going white with rage.

“Well, we suspect that he’s Kid, so we’ve just taken care of a major problem,” the man sneered, “but if he’s really Kudo Shinichi and Kid is here somewhere, it doesn’t matter. We needed Kudo dead too.”

Shinichi was almost shaking with rage and disbelief. He couldn’t believe that Kid could be killed so easily, so unceremoniously, but he’d seen that bullet hit him in the heart, he could _see_ the blood pooling and congealing around his body...

He frowned. _Wait a minute..._

“But in any case, we only need one hostage, so we’re not averse to killing anyone _else_ who wants to make trouble,” the leader sneered. Aoko was crying quietly, staring at the body in horror. The men smashed in the glass cover of the diamond, picking it up.

“All right,” the man with the handlebar moustache said. “You know the drill... four of us going, two hostages, the rest are just frightened and injured cops.”

“Yes, sir!” the men said smartly, eight bracing themselves before shooting themselves, glancing blows across their arms or shoulders, places that would bleed impressively but wouldn’t actually slow them down when it came time to leg it. Shinichi narrowed his eyes.

“ _Two_ hostages?” Hakuba asked sharply.

“We’ll take the girl and the little boy,” the man said, reaching for Shinichi. “The police won’t risk them. You two, however...”

Then he screamed in pain as a flashbomb hit him in the eye.

Hakuba pulled Aoko down again as the men raised their guns, two firing shotguns at the source but only managing to shatter one of the windows and knock the diamond from its stand. Shinichi instantly flipped open his watch—Agasa-Hakase had spent some time the other day explaining how some of his things worked—and knocked one out, then kicking a football that his belt produced at another, also flooring him. Nakamori dove for a dropped pistol, shooting at the injured men as they started to shoot back, Hakuba similarly returning fire. The moustached man had staggered back, a hand over his eyes. Two men were already unconscious, and Kid rolled out from behind a plinth and hit another in the neck.

Shinichi pulled out his phone and speed-dialled Jodie. “Come up the elevator shaft, it’s off but it’s not blocked!” he cried, ducking behind a plinth as the six remaining men tried to return fire on Hakuba and Nakamori while also shooting at Kid, who was bouncing around the room like a pinball.

Nakamori hissed in pain as a bullet hit him in the arm, and Hakuba shot the gun out of the attacker’s hand. Shinichi, short enough to hide behind a plinth without ducking, also grabbed a fallen gun and started shooting, drawing shocked looks from both of the Nakamori. It was surprisingly easy, though. He supposed that he must have had some shooting practice before.

“You little bastard...” one of the men yelped as Shinichi shot his gun out of his hand, dropping to his knees and grabbing his fallen comrade’s shotgun, blowing a chunk out of the plinth. Shinichi yelped and dove for cover behind another as the vase that had been sitting on top of the plinth fell, and those few seconds that he spent out in the open would have gone very hard on him if a shot hadn’t suddenly zipped through the window, hitting the man in the shoulder, causing him to drop the gun momentarily. More shots came from some unknown, outside source, causing the men to fall back just as Jodie and a dozen real officers climbed out of the elevator shaft, guns blazing.

“Damn you!” the handlebar moustache growled as Kid dropped on him, trying to knock him out, but only knocking a handgun out of his hand. “I _killed_ you!”

“We’ve been over this, Snake,” Kid said, dodging a kick with an easy hop.

“Show your face, dammit!” Snake roared angrily, knocking the hat off. The face underneath, however, was not Kuroba Kaito.

“ **My name is Inigo Montoya,** ” The Latino face laughed. “ **You killed my father, prepare to have your ass kicked.** Man, I’ve _always_ wanted to say that.” He rolled to avoid a shotgun blast, grabbing his hat as he did so. Shinichi fired on the shotgun wielder, but all that achieved was to get the man to fire on _him_ again. With his hand injured, the killer couldn’t fire his shotgun accurately, but he managed to knock down a statuette that sent Shinichi’s world black.

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When the kid slumped, unconscious, Kaito instantly ditched Snake, running to move the boy out of the line of fire as the Syndicate and the FBI got into a deadly crossfire. In his moment of distraction, he didn’t quite duck out of the line of fire himself. He jerked backwards with a hiss of pain as another round from the shotgun blasted into his chest. Damn vest stopped the bullets piercing him, but they didn’t stop the _force_...

“Kill him, I’ll get the jewel!” Snake cried, running for the diamond where it lay among the shattered glass from the window. Kaito rolled to dodge a couple more shots, raising his card gun and knocking the shotgun out of the goon’s hands and then tackled the man. As they fell, Kaito saw movement, someone running towards the same jewel as Snake, from the opposite direction.

 _Aoko_.

“No!” Kaito yelled as Snake raised his gun, aiming it at her through his good eye. Kaito shot it out of his hand, stumbling and ducking as another two shots hit his back and a third whizzed through his hat. He flung a flashbomb backwards, blinding the Ravens while a few of the more experienced cops pulled on sunglasses and took them down.

Aoko determinedly grabbed the diamond, only to have her wrist grabbed by Snake as the bastard tried to wrestle the jewel from her grip.

“Give it to me, girl!” he snarled.

“No way!” she yelled angrily, trying to jerk away. He pulled back his fist. Kaito, his run slowed by the smashed ribs, shot a card at Snake to distract him from attacking Aoko. Snake jerked backwards to dodge it, his vision still unfortunately affected by the flashbomb in the eye, hand still locked firmly around Aoko’s wrist...

... right out of the broken window.

“ _AOKO!!_ ” Nakamori’s bellow mingled with Snake’s scream of rage and Aoko’s scream of fear as they fell from the window. Kaito didn’t even pause as he ran and leapt out of the window.

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Aoko screamed in fear as the man’s weight and strength pulled her out of the window, the scream transmuting into one of pain as one of the broken shards ripped past her leg. The diamond was still clutched in her hands, one of the man’s hands painfully tight around her wrist. She turned as they fell, time seeming to slow, and then she saw the white figure that launched itself out of the window after her, streamlining itself as it joined them in freefall.

Kid’s face was hidden by the darkness and the hat, but somehow she could make out an odd, urgent glint in his eye. He reached out a hand as he neared her. She reached back to him, her other arm stretched out beneath her, still clutching the diamond, pulled by the man’s weight. Kid closed his hand around her wrist, then his hanglider deployed.

Aoko gasped as the sudden air resistance caused a forceful jerk to run through her body, though the Kid didn’t let go of her wrist. The man in black, however, having evidently also been taken by surprise, did.

Aoko was dangling from the hanglider by one hand for a moment, and she could see the street now only five stories below her, see the man in black’s snarling face grow smaller as he fell away, triumphantly clutching the diamond...

“Shit,” Kid hissed, pulling her up and wrapping one arm around her shoulders, forcing her head into his chest so she could see the man no more. “Don’t look.”

_... “Don’t look, Aoko!” her father cried, pulling her head into his side so she couldn’t see, but she could hear the noise, the horrible, horrible..._

It was an odd mix between a _crack_ , a _thump_ and a _splash_ , a disgusting combination that Aoko had only heard once before, a long time ago. She shuddered violently, squeezing her eyes shut and curling up against Kid’s damp shirt. He had one arm around her shoulders and another under her legs, holding her close. She felt safe, secure, and while some part of her mind was raging that this was her father’s—and her—mortal enemy, she couldn’t help the feeling of utter peace that came from being held by him, an odd sensation that she consciously chalked down to the fact that he had just saved her from joining the man in black on the pavement. The noise and lights of the museum were fading away. The gunfire seemed to have stopped.

“If you can bear my presence for a few more minutes, Ojousama,” Kid said in a slightly rougher voice than his usual smooth tones, “there’s a place nearby where I can drop you off on solid ground and you can be on your way.” His breathing was ragged, and Aoko guessed at broken ribs.

 _At_ least _,_ she thought worriedly. How _many bullets did he get hit by_? All thoughts of arresting the thief had taken a temporary leave of absence, replaced by fear for his injuries. The strength of her worry surprised her.

“Here we go,” Kid said, taking one arm from around her waist as he reached up to grab something, the hanglider retracting as he swung through some window or opening. Aoko squeaked in surprise as her feet touched solid ground again, wincing as pain shot through her leg when she put her weight back on it. Kid steadied her as she swayed, though he seemed unsteady himself. Aoko blinked as her night vision asserted itself, looking around to see where they were.

“A parking lot?” she said in surprise.

“They still haven’t replaced the security cameras after my last heist, so it was convenient,” Kid said, letting go of her and stepping back. The backlighting of the streetlights and his hat and monocle obscured his face. “Now, if you would be so good as to go home before poor Nakamori-keibu finally achieves that stress-induced aneurism... or go to the police, as I’m sure you will, although that still gives me plenty of time to be on _my_ merry way...”

“Um... thank you,” Aoko said awkwardly. “For saving me, I mean.”

“No need to thank me,” Kid said softly. “After all, could I have just let you fall?”

Something was odd about the phrase. _Could_? Aoko wondered. _Sounds a little personal..._ Out loud, she said “It doesn’t matter. You have to get those bullet wounds treated anyway. It’ll be easy to identify you then.”

“Only if I go to a hospital,” Kid said lightly, leaning back against the wall.

“What?!” Aoko said in shock. “You _can’t_ be planning to treat those yourself! Those bullet wounds—”

“—are not as bad as they look,” Kid said, cutting her off with surprising harshness. “It’s a bulletproof vest and stage blood, nothing much to worry about, I assure you.” He coughed slightly. “Damaged ribs at the worst, and I’m quite capable of treating those. Now _go_.”

Aoko was taken aback. Kid was acting strange, harsh, polite but cruel...

Suddenly, Aoko was furious at him; forgetting that he’d just saved her life, all the fury came back, for the man who’d stolen, who flaunted the law, who’d mocked her, who’d always occupied her father’s mind more fully than her for all of her life, who was always out of her reach, just like _him_ , who always, _always_ hid the truth,...

The fury resolved itself in her outstretched arm as she swung it around in a powerful _slap_ , snapping his head to the side, knocking off his hat and monocle. She dug her nails in, feeling the mask rip and tear, feeling her nails reach deep enough to score his real flesh...

She stared as he slowly turned his head back to face her, the _clink_ of his monocle hitting the ground so loud in the otherwise empty parking lot...

_Sweet but cold..._

“K...” she gasped, stepping backwards, the rubber and latex in her hand softly flopping to the floor, suddenly trembling as she tried to think of some other explanation for what she saw. But there was nothing; she could see the pink scratches of her fingernails left on his cheek, his real face, a _face she knew..._ “Kaito?”

His face was blank but his eyes were dark as he looked down, somehow unable to meet her gaze. “Aoko...”

“N-no,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Kaito... you can’t be... no...”

“Aoko,” he said again, “I’m... I’m sorry. I...”

“ _No_!”

Aoko couldn’t stay, she couldn’t bring herself to listen, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but _get away..._

With a sob, she spun on her heel and ran.

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Kaito didn’t move as Aoko ran from him, even as he felt his heart shatter in his chest. He knew he should leave before the police came looking for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. It was over. Aoko knew the truth. And she hated him for it.

_I’d hoped... I’d prayed... that she could forgive me... even listen... but..._

How could she? She hated the Kaitou Kid more than anything—more than she cared about him. His worst fears were confirmed: she didn’t love him. She’d only ever seen him as a friend, and probably not even _that_ any more. If she came back at all, it would be with the police, and he’d get that million-year prison sentence that Nakamori-keibu had so often sworn was reserved just for him.

He didn’t care. He was already in the worst kind of hell. Maybe a few years with no chance of running into Aoko or anyone else he used to know would be nice.

He sat back into the shadows, waiting for Aoko to decide his fate.


	69. Magic

“Nakamori-san, if you want to get the hospital, you’re going the wrong way.”

Aoko tripped in surprise as the voice jerked her back to reality. Hakuba caught her as she fell.

“H-Hakuba-kun?” she mumbled in surprise as he pulled her back to her feet. “The hospital...?”

“Your look like you could use a little treatment for that leg,” he explained. “Your father’s there too, getting a couple of his injuries treated. I’ve got nothing serious, but twelve officers are dead, I’m afraid. All of the criminals are in custody except for the one that... fell... are you okay?”

“M-me?” Aoko said distractedly, mind still spinning as she tried to process it all: her best friend, her worst enemy, Kaito, the Kaitou Kid, all one and the same... “I-I’m all right, I guess... better than ending up on the pavement, I suppose...”

“True,” Hakuba said, leading her to sit down on the porch in front of the shop that he’d evidently just come out of. “But then, I can’t really see that baka Kuroba letting you get hurt.”

“Y-you knew?” Aoko asked, trying to focus on the blond tantei. “You knew th-that.... he’s...?”

“The Kaitou Kid? Yes,” Hakuba said. “And I take it that you do too, now.”

Aoko could only nod. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to _think_ , anymore. Hakuba watched her unreadably for a moment, before suddenly snorting, and unusual sound for him. “I did _warn_ you that it was dangerous to associate with him.” Aoko glanced up at him in shock. “I was right, wasn’t I? I told you that you were safer off not being friends with him. He betrayed your trust, he’s clearly hurt you, and he could easily have gotten you killed. After all, these people already killed his father and are gunning for him. Did he realize that his stupidity could have gotten you killed along with him?”

“N-no,” Aoko said. “He didn’t mean to... you mean Toichi-ojisan was murdered?”

“Yes, and in all likelihood, Kuroba will be as well,” Hakuba sighed. “Really, he shouldn’t have taken the law into his own hands... you’re better off without him.”

“What if he _had_ to take the law into his own hands?” Aoko demanded, feeling suddenly driven to defend Kaito. “I mean, the police clearly never caught these people. Maybe he _had_ to do something. You can’t let people get away with murder.”

“You can’t lie and use people either,” Hakuba said sharply. “Face it—Kuroba’s a self-centred, prideful fool. If he cared at all about you, he wouldn’t have lied to you and dragged you into all of this.”

“And if he _didn’t_ care about me, he wouldn’t have taken a dozen bullets to the gut!” Aoko yelled, furious now, with herself or with Hakuba she couldn’t tell. She jumped to her feet and turned to run, but Hakuba stood, grabbing her arm and holding her back. “Let go of me,” she said, quietly, dangerously.

“You’d go back to him, after he’s hurt you?” he asked, a strange intensity in his eyes.

“Yes,” Aoko said. “Because he’s been hurting too. The whole time, he’s been hurting too, and I... I’ve only hurt him more. Because he’s my best friend... because... because...” She was on the verge of tears again, she knew, the sobs that had been pushed aside by anger returning full force.

“Because?” Hakuba persisted.

“Because he’s more important to me than anyone else,” she screamed, “and I love him!”

“You’re a fool,” Hakuba said. Aoko snapped. She swung and slapped him, hard enough to knock him to the ground, harder than she’d even hit the Kid—hit Kaito. He let go of her arm. She turned and ran back the way she had come—back to Kaito.

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Saguru sat up and watched Aoko run back the way she’d come, raising a hand to cup his stinging cheek.

“You should tell him, not me,” he said quietly. “You should have told him a long time ago. Fool.”

Then he smiled.

“Bocchama! A-are you all right?”

Saguru glanced over his shoulder as his housekeeper came out, looking shocked.

“Look at you, lying there on the ground,” she complained, hauling up and dusting him off. “You call and say you’re going straight from the heist to the hospital because poor Nakamori-keibu’s been injured and you don’t even have any flowers... you have to bring flowers when visiting the hospital, you know! And then when I meet up with you to help you pick something, you disappear and I find you having a fight with a girl...”

“Sorry, baaya,” Saguru said, chuckling. She looked at him in surprise.

“Really, Bocchama, you’ve been acting so strangely lately,” she said. “I understand that the master’s death would affect you, of course, but… so much secretive investigating, so many odd plans for Kid heists... is everything all right?”

“Well...” Saguru glanced back to the spot where he’d last seen Aoko. “I think... it will be.”

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Aoko ran, gasping for air through the tears, to the place where she’d last seen Kaito, ignoring the stinging pain in her leg with every step. She knew he probably wouldn’t still be there, but she couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. She just had to run, as if it would stop her head from spinning with a thousand memories.

_A red rose for a lonely little girl. Sitting on a table at the back of a restaurant, giggling in the childish excitement of being somewhere that you probably shouldn’t. A whirl of feathers controlled by a whistler. Swinging a mop at a quickly-dodging mess of brown hair, not to hit him but to hide her laughter. A million little tricks and smiles and moments that were magical, even—especially—without any tricks... And one constant to it all..._

_A cloud of smoke, a sudden_ snap _, a spray of red and a scream that had never ended, not really..._

Yes. Why hadn’t she realized? He _always_ smiled, no matter what. After what had happened to Toichi, there was surely no way he’d never get even a little sad every once in a while—especially after he’d found out the truth, and become a marked man. But she’d forgotten, hadn’t she, what she’d once heard Toichi-ojisan say?

“ _A magician’s Poker Face has to be as good as a clown’s makeup, so strong that tears can be flowing down your cheeks and everyone thinks you’re on top of the world..._ ”

He’d hurt. There was no way he didn’t. And it had hurt so much that there was no way that he _wouldn’t_ do anything about it, even if it meant making himself into something she despised. Even if it meant he lived every day in fear. Even if it only hurt him more.

 _I’m so sorry, Kaito_ , she thought, swallowing a sob again as, as she thought, the multistorey parking lot where he’d left her was empty. _I’m the worst friend in the world... How could I have run and left you all alone again? You’ve been a better friend to me than I’ve ever been to you, so please, know me... know that I could_ never _hate you... know that I don’t want you to be alone... know that it’s okay to take off the mask and cry. Please... I’m so, so sorry..._

“Strange. I was expecting you to be back in a police car.”

Aoko gasped as she whirled around, peering at the shadows of one of the supporting pillars. Then he stepped out into the moonlight, his face wearing the mocking, insincere smile of the Kid.

_That’s not who he is._

“S-stop it,” she said quietly. He regarded her quietly, his expression changing to carefully calculated confusion. “Stop smiling like that. It’s not real. It’s not you.”

“Isn’t it now.” It wasn’t really a question, or a statement of fact; it was just filling time, making conversation, pushing her to continue. It broke her heart that he didn’t care what she said to him anymore. It meant that she couldn’t hurt him more. She’d already done the worst when she’d run. She looked him in the eye as she finally let tears fall from hers.

“I’m so sorry, Kaito,” she whispered. “I’m the worst, aren’t I? You were the best friend in the world to me... you knew me so well that you always knew what I was thinking, when I was sad and lonely...” she choked out a harsh laugh, a cynical sound so unlike herself. “I could’ve at least returned the favour, huh? I should’ve realized that all this time, even— _especially_ —when you were laughing, behind the mask you were crying...” She stepped forwards, slowly, tentatively, as if he was a skittish deer that would bolt at any second. Maybe he was. He could be as fragile as glass behind his Poker Face, easily shattered with a single wrong word. Or maybe he was already broken, and this was her one chance to fix him. She didn’t know. But she longed to.

“But maybe you don’t know me so well, huh?” she suggested. “You forgot that I’m the dimmest girl in Tokyo. You forgot that I told you that it’s okay to cry. It’s okay to let yourself be sad. I’ll still be here when you cry. I’ll always be here when you cry... if you’ll let me.”

“You hate me,” he said quietly.

“I hate Otou-san spending more time at work than with me,” she corrected him. “I hate criminals with no remorse for people’s suffering. I hate justice not being upheld. But I don’t hate _you_ , Kaito. Even if you were Lupin himself... I could _never_ hate you, Anata.” The tears started to overflow, and she let them. She wasn’t afraid to let him see her cry. She didn’t want him to be scared to let her see him cry.  “I was scared and confused, but I know that... this is what you had to do. You couldn’t let the people who murdered your Otou-san get away. I wouldn’t expect anything else of you. Even though... it probably just hurt you all the more.”

“Who told you?” he asked, as she took another careful step towards him. He remained where he was, leaning against the pillar with his arms crossed over his stomach, his hat and monocle gone but the most important disguise still in place.

“Hakuba-kun,” she replied. “He’s been reinvestigating... a few things.” Then it hit her; the cold things that Hakuba had said, the things that had forced the truth out of her. He hadn’t meant any of it. He had known how she would react. He had deliberately made her face her own feelings and go back to Kaito, because his investigations had told him that Kaito needed help, and it wasn’t help that the detective could offer. “Kaito... you’re not alone, you know? You don’t have to be alone. Don’t ever tell yourself that you are.” She stepped forwards again, less than an arm’s length away from him now, and slowly reached out, her hand somehow steady and calm. She thought he would flinch when she touched his cheek, and in a way he did; something behind his eyes flickered for a moment before his mocking smile faded, his Poker Face growing even more emotionless as he strengthened it against this new onslaught.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice also calm and steady though Aoko now knew that the calmer he was getting, the greater turmoil he was hiding.

“I’m trying to take the mask off,” she replied, her voice just as even, even as hot tears streamed down her cheeks. “Dimmest girl in Tokyo, remember? You have to take that Poker Face off. You have to let me see you cry. I want to see you cry. Geez, that sounds cruel, doesn’t it?” she added, forcing a trembling smile. “But if I see you cry, it means you’ve forgiven me. It means you haven’t rejected me. It means... things can still be fixed.”

“­Me.... reject _you_?” he said, unable to stop the incredulity. “Me... forgive _you_? When did things get so backwards? Aoko... I’m the one who needs to be forgiven. I hurt you.”

“And I hurt you, don’t pretend that I didn’t,” Aoko said, pressing her hand to his cheek, feeling the mask crack, willing it to shatter. “So we’re square. So let’s forgive each other, let’s cry together, and let’s... start over. Together. No secrets, no fear, no hurt. Just you and me.”

He raised his hand, but his was shaking, a decade of concealed emotion about to be released with the force of a dam bursting. His trembling hand covered hers, as his other hand reached out to catch her tears as they fell from her chin.

“You... don’t hate me,” he said, a quiet question, one that he feared the answer to. That gave her hope. If he feared more pain, then he wasn’t broken. Things weren’t beyond repair. And she would fix them, starting now, no matter what.

“Anata...” she said, catching his other hand, “I never could.”

And then the dam burst, tears finally flowing strong and fast from his eyes, washing away ten years of secrets and lies and fears and regrets. He pulled her close, holding her as if she was the only thing left in the world and he was determined not to let her run again.

“No matter what, Kaito,” she whispered, feeling his tears soaking into her hair, “when everything else in the world had left you, I’ll still be here. I won’t run from you ever again.”

“All this time, I was so scared,” he whispered back, his voice breaking. “I was scared that you’d hate me when you found out.”

“Then there’s no need to be afraid ever again,” she said, turning her head to look up again. Their eyes met, half an inch away, and then closed as they pressed their lips together.

_A million moments faded, their magic nothing against this, this pure kiss, this perfect moment, nothing in the world but her and Kaito; the hands from which roses had appeared wrapped around her back or buried in her hair as he held her close, the lips that had whistled to summon doves pressed warm and soft against hers, her tears and his mingling as they fell..._

They stood like that for the longest time, as if time had frozen, praying that it would. Then they wouldn’t have to deal with dead officers or any shadowy organizations or...

It was Kaito who pulled away, coughing into his hand. In the dim light, Aoko saw the white fabric stained with something dark—blood. _Real_ blood.

“Kaito...?” She gasped.

“Kevlar’s good for stopping you turning into a human colander,” he said, “but it doesn’t distribute the force of the bullets very well. I’ve probably got a few cracked ribs.”

“We have to get you to a hospital—!” she exclaimed, but he shook his head.

“It’ll be too easy for Them to find me,” he said, “and anyway I don’t have a change of clothes on me, for once...”

“What about Jii-san?” Aoko asked.

Kaito shook his head. “They don’t know about him,” he said. He reached up, unclipping his cape.

Aoko put her arm under his shoulders, supporting him. “Kaito...?”

“We’ll have to walk, but it shouldn’t be too far,” he said, tucking the cape away and pulling his shirt tails out. “If I take off the most obvious markers of being Kid—can you give me a hand with the tie?—I’ll probably just look like a well-dressed guy who drank a little too much...”

They were thus limping down to the bottom floor of the lot when Kaito paused. Someone was walking up the ramp towards them.

“Who...?” Aoko whispered, staring at the figure who rounded the ramp. Then Kaito smiled.

“Hey,” Kaito said. “I’m ready to talk.”

Yuusaku smiled as he walked over, supporting Kaito on the other side as they he helped him down to his car. “It’s funny,” he said, “but Toichi-kun said almost exactly the same thing.”


	70. The Ghost Of You

Shinichi drifted back into consciousness, but kept his eyes closed. His head was throbbing, and even the light coming through his eyelids was aggravating it, so he didn’t quite feel like making that any worse.

 _There were gunshots,_ he remembered, _then something... fell on my head..._

“He’s in here...”

“Oh, Kami... is he all right?”

 _Ran?_ he realized, recognizing the voice. _Of course... if I was hurt, they’d call her... I am_ so _sick of waking up like this..._

“There was a bit of crossfire between the police and FBI and the criminals...”

“Kami above...”

“It’s all right, he wasn’t hit, but one shot knocked over a statuette sitting on top of the plinth that he was hiding behind and knocked him out... according to Nakamori-kun, Kid pulled him out of the way of any more fire by hiding him behind the barricade that they’d used to block the door to the stairway.”

“Oh, thank Kami... is it serious?”

“He hasn’t woken up yet, but they don’t think it was a hard knock. The CAT scan showed no serious damage...”

“I’m all right,” he muttered, opening his eyes to the now annoyingly familiar sight of Ran looking scared to death. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, I just got here,” Ran said, hurrying to his side and tentatively reaching out to him. “How’s your head?”

“I’ve got a bit of a headache, but I’m okay otherwise...” Shinichi said, touching his head. “I remember... Tou-s... err, Yuusaku-ojisan called,” he corrected himself for the benefit of the officers hovering around the doorway. “He said a bunch of dead cops had been found dumped in the Teimuzu, uniforms stolen... so I realized that the Organization must have stolen their uniforms and used fake IDs.”

“Damn the bastards, but it worked,” Nakamori growled from the doorway. His right arm was in a sling, but he seemed as full of rage and energy than ever—more so, even, to Shinichi’s complete lack of surprise. “That makes twenty officers dead, dammit, and six more injured, not including myself and Hakuba-kun... I don’t know where the young idiot took off to. I think he was going to try to find Aoko.”

“Find her?” Shinichi asked with a frown. “Where did she go?”

“The bastard in the moustache knocked her out of the broken window,” Nakamori snarled. “He fell too, tussling over the damn diamond. Damn thing turned out to be a fake anyway. Kami knows when the Kid took the real one...”

“She fell?” Ran gasped.

“She’s all right, I think,” Nakamori sighed. “The crowd outside saw Kid catch her and fly off... the bastard fell, though. Thirty stories. Scraped him off the damn pavement in a bucket...”

“So Aoko-chan’s with Kid?” Ran asked, looking marginally relieved.

“She hasn’t resurfaced yet, so presumably,” Nakamori muttered. “I _am_ actually thankful for that. I... doubt he’d hurt her. She’s probably safe enough with him.”

“So what happened to the Organization agents?” Shinichi asked.

“Well, there were twelve,” Nakamori said. “The dead one seems to have been the boss. All others are in custody—well, handcuffed to their hospital beds, anyway—except for three more who were killed in the shootout with us and that FBI agent… but we think at least two of those were down to a sniper.”

“Sniper?” Shinichi said in surprise. “A police sniper? Or FBI?”

“No, neither of us were using snipers,” Nakamori said with a frown, “and the strange thing is, aside from the three caught sneaking into the surrounding buildings earlier in the evening, nobody even tried to get into any of the buildings in the 650 yard protective radius. I mean, they could have shot from a building outside the radius, I suppose, but...”

“They’d have to be an incredible shot,” Shinichi said in surprise. “Well... whoever it was, at least they were on _our_ side, right?”

“I suppose so,” Nakamori mused, “But still... it worries me. In any case, none of the eight survivors have said a word... we’re still interrogating, though.”

“Some of them are talking,” Jodie said, striding into the room. “They don’t know a huge amount, but one’s been in their version of the Kid Task Force for fifteen years. He’ll have something useful to say if anybody does...”

“How on earth did you get them to talk?” Nakamori said in surprise.

Jodie shrugged. “I just told them that if they didn’t want to talk to the Japanese cops,” she explained, “then I’d put them in FBI custody and then we’d interrogate them like we do in the States.”

 Everyone was quiet for a moment, thinking of what came naturally at that suggestion, before Shinichi finally said tentatively, “so... how _do_ you interrogate people in the States?”

Jodie smiled. “In English.”

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“How’d you get that guy to treat me?” Kaito asked, luxuriating in the guest bed. After nearly a month of sleeping sporadically either on a motorbike or in a cigarette-burned motel bed, this was _heaven_.

“We told him you were Shinichi,” Yuusaku said, glancing out of the window as Dr Araide climbed into his car. “He’s a friend of Jodie-kun’s. He’ll drop Aoko-kun off at home and keep his mouth shut. He had a bad run-in with Vermouth once himself, after all.”

“Ah...” Dr Ariade had wrapped up Kaito’s ribs. Thankfully, the fractures were lighter than they felt, and only two were in fact fractured at all—“ _You’ve got a surprising amount of scar tissue, Kudo-kun, so no doubt that helped cushion the blows; that, and as far as I can tell you must be made at least partly of rubber”—_ so as long as he stayed in bed for a couple of weeks and took it easy for a couple more, he ought to be fine. Kaito figured he could chance moving a little sooner, so long as he was careful. After all, he healed fast, and in any case he’d have to retrieve the real diamond and check it out.

Then the Doctor had cleaned up Aoko’s leg, and Yukiko had pressed her to go home before her father worried himself to death, insisting that she could come over and she and Kaito could talk tomorrow. Kaito had agreed, partly because Aoko really did look exhausted by the night’s activities, and partly because he really, really needed to talk to Kudo Yuusaku.

“I need to apologize to you, Kaito-kun,” Yuusaku said to Kaito’s surprise and not a little suspicion, considering what had happened the last time that he’d heard something like that. “Truth be told, I knew you were the Kaitou Kid from the first instant. I realized that you must have taken over Toichi-kun’s legacy... If I had contacted you sooner about this, told you about the Syndicate, perhaps you wouldn’t have tried to use yourself as bait... and wouldn’t have come to so much harm. But you didn’t seem to have crossed paths with the Syndicate at all, so I said nothing, thinking that you knew nothing, thinking that as long as you knew nothing, you’d be safe...”

“Wait...” Kaito said in surprise. “The whole time... you _knew_? Not only about me, but about the _Syndicate?!_ How... how long have you known?”

“Over fifteen years,” Yuusaku said softly. “That’s how long I’ve been working with Toichi-kun against the Syndicate.”

“What—fifteen—how—?!” Kaito sputtered, questions overloading. Yuusaku held up a hand to silence him, then, to Kaito’s further confusion, set a cassette player on the bedside table.

“Perhaps Toichi-kun ought to explain,” Yuusaku said quietly. “Did you ever hear the full content of your father’s tape?”

“Well, no,” Kaito admitted. “It had been tangled and degraded, I couldn’t hear more than the first few words...”

“The tape survived the fire,” Yuusaku explained, “protected by the sheer size of the old cassette player that Toichi-kun left it in... ah, clunky old technology. In any case, I retrieved and restored it... I think it’s about time you heard it all.” He stood. “I’ll be back in an hour. It ought to be done by then. I think you need to listen to it on your own, though there’s little in there that he didn’t tell me, I’ll wager. In any case... I’ll leave you two alone.” He left, and Kaito stared silently at the player for a moment. Then, slowly, careful not to shift his sore ribs, he pressed _play_.

“ _Hello, Kaito. It’s been a while. If you’re hearing this, then there’s something you need to know about my identity that I’m not alive to tell. To put it bluntly, I am the Kaitou Kid. No tricks... you’ll find evidence enough in this room. I guess I should explain why. I owe you, above all others, the truth—including the truth that I’ve only ever told one other living person, the only person who’s implicated in the same way that I am._

_“It started a couple of years before you were born, not long before I first met Chikage. I was in Paris, and I ran into an old friend and student of mine in college, Sharon Vineyard. She was one of the people I had worked with while running the drama club there, one of the only two people aside from you that I’d taught my father’s disguise secrets to. She’d become an actress in the meantime, and a rousing success at that, having just starred in her first movie. She put it all down to my tutelage, and had done so publicly, which I suppose is why my magic shows had grown so popular so fast. We went out for a few drinks—possibly a few too many, as I ended up entering into a drunken rant about how lax the security at the Louvre had been when I was there. A woman’s purse had been stolen and the thief would have gotten away if I hadn’t stopped him at the door… there really was very little security back then. I’m sure I ended up sounding rather like Ginzo-kun. In any case, by the end of it Sharon had made a wager with me—that any mere charlatan could waltz in and take the Mona Lisa herself. By the time I had sobered enough to carry out the bet, I was starting to have misgivings, but rising career notwithstanding I did need money and in any case, I intended to return the painting—and hopefully, the theft would drive them to update the security. Thus, I suppose, the Kaitou Kid was born._

_“Well, as you can imagine, it went off perfectly. I stole the painting, I returned it, I messed with the_ gendarme _in the process... all in good, harmless fun, of course. Except I had an odd encounter with Sharon in between. When she came to pay up, she said a number of odd things... well, the gist of it was that she had been intending to turn me into a thief for some time… that she worked with criminals who were always on the lookout for new talents. On top of it all, it seemed that her disguise and acting skills—skills that_ I _had taught her—were an invaluable asset to them._

_“I refused, of course, insisting on returning the painting. She left in a huff but without too much of a fuss. But I heard her talking to someone as she left, talking about hitting a place in Prague. I felt torn. Knowingly or not, I had helped these criminals—and they had hoped for me to be one of them. But on the other hand, the theft I had pulled at the Louvre really had been a huge detriment to them. The man Sharon had been talking to had mentioned that thanks to the ramped-up security, their loyal people had been unable to steal something. I felt that I could not let these thefts—and possibly worse, as Sharon had implied, she had said that ‘he will not work for murderers’—go to plan. I could not let them happen. So I decided to go again. Once again, I got dressed up- and this time I added the hanglider to escape from the high building. I liked it so much that I kept it, as you’ve probably discovered. Once again, I stole and returned... and their plans were waylaid because of it._

_“I met your mother on a heist, when we were both robbing the same place… she was the first person, aside from Jii-san, who knew about Kid. Jii-san had been there from the start; we had been dear friends ever since his highly enjoyable chemistry labs in college, and he had happily helped me plan heists once he knew my motivation. I was terrified, I must admit; by this time, I’d realized how dangerous the Syndicate were, and worried about whether Chikage would be willing to get mixed up in that. But as it happened, she felt that my stance against them was important, even letting it supersede her own crusade against forgers, and her only worry was that soon they’d consider me enough of a nuisance to get rid of me. Her fears, as I’m sure you can tell, were not unfounded._

_“Then, of course, in Rome, we had you, though we registered you as a Japanese citizen, since we were just passing through as entertainers. I started slowing down on heists, was even thinking of quitting… until, quite by chance, when you had just turned one, I ran into Sharon on my way out of a heist. She didn’t see me—she was talking to Snake. He was asking her about a hit on a target that they weren’t sure existed yet._

_“The crux of it was, They had heard of some kind of dream, a prophecy of a child who would be a danger to the Syndicate. Snake said that if he was located, he was to be killed, and asked Sharon to describe him. She said she could not, but as she did so I remembered a picture that she had drawn a long time ago, in college—one that she’d shown to me, showing two children that she’d heard about in a story, a little girl and a little boy. When I thought about it, I could still remember their faces._

_“Then I realized. The little boy that I’d seen in a drawing five years before, the little boy that they wanted dead—it was_ you.”

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Yuusaku sat in the library, thinking about Kaito listening to his father’s voice on the floor above. He still remembered that day, fifteen years ago, when Toichi had told him the story, his voice terse and urgent as he explained that he had unknowingly seen his own child’s face nearly five years before the boy’s birth. That his son, he’d thought for a long time, was the “Silver Bullet” of which Sharon had spoken, the boy who was the greatest danger to the Syndicate, the one fated to destroy them and the Pandora. Yuusaku hadn’t been quite certain before if he’d believed in fate and destiny, but then again he hadn’t believed in immortality either. But it _had_ been strange that Sharon had drawn Kaito’s face so long before he was even born.

It was strange that he and Shinichi, who were not even distantly related, could well have been twins.

That was why Toichi had done it—having seen deep into the dark underbelly of their world of theft and murder, he had been desperate to find and destroy the Pandora before Kaito had gotten mixed up in it all. He had been so afraid for his son—and then he’d realized that Kaito wasn’t the only one in danger.

Kaito and Shinichi were so alike. _Too_ much alike. They’d met once, aged three, and then Toichi and Yuusaku had agreed that perhaps it was better that the boys didn’t grow up together. There was just something strange about how, after five minutes knowing each other, they’d been able to finish each other’s sentences, known what the other was thinking, sometimes even spoken in unison.

They were too alike. Which meant that Toichi and Yuusaku had no way of knowing which was the “Silver Bullet”, the one destined to delve into a world of intrigue and death, to face down the most dangerous criminal organization in the history of man. By the time Toichi had finished his story, Yuusaku had looked as his tiny son, and suddenly understood exactly why Toichi did what he did.

He knew that fear. Fate be damned, he couldn’t let his son get into that kind of danger...

From that moment, an odd friendship and union had been made, an alliance of the detective and the thief, the classical antithesis united by the need to protect their sons. They had planned heists together, Yuusaku capable of controlling police presence and get access to police records and use his influence to access data that might be about the Syndicate or the Pandora. But no matter where they looked, they could find nothing on the jewel. They only had what Snake had told Toichi on the night that, not knowing that Toichi had already rejected an invite to join once, he had attempted to hire Toichi to locate and acquire the Pandora for them. Toichi had turned him down—and that’s when the sniper attacks had begun. And in the end...

 _But I guess the world didn’t like our interference, huh?_ he thought sadly. _Was it mere coincidence that Jii-san only got the idea of dressing up as the Kid to draw out your murderers_ after _Kaito was old enough to take up the mantle? It certainly can’t be a coincidence, the number of bodies that Shinichi runs into... we tried to protect them, but in the end it was drawn to them, like a magnet. Death and disaster is drawn to them... because they can handle it. Because they can see justice done. Even when Sharon tried to make Shinichi forget who he was,_ what _he was... she couldn’t. And the thing is... they_ are _doing it. And they’re not doing it alone, either. People who can and will destroy the Syndicate are also drawn to them. They’re the cores around which the Syndicate’s enemies form, bringing them together into something that will_ finish _them. In the end, they may not have to do a thing... what they begun cannot be stopped. Not now._

 _We feared that it would be one or the other, Toichi-kun, but perhaps... it’s_ both.


	71. The Devil's Hour

Kaito lay awake, staring at the ceiling for hours, long after his father’s voice had fallen silent, thinking over what he’d heard.

Even if Kid had never happened, even if Toichi was still alive... he’d still be a target for the Syndicate. He would have become one the moment they saw his face.

So was Kudo Shinichi. They were both marked by whatever genetic accident had made them doppelgangers; both trapped in some bogus dance of fate with the Syndicate. _Neither can live while the other survives._ Might as well throw in Gin being their father and be done with it.

Kaito’s feelings on the reality of magic were mixed after meeting Akako, but his feelings on fate and destiny were not. He didn’t believe in them, and didn’t even like the concept. It seemed like a cop-out to him, as if people were too afraid to take responsibility for their own lives and any mistakes made therein. They could say “it’s not my fault, it was Fate.” Kaito didn’t believe in that. If he screwed up, it was damn well his fault, and rather than whining about the Fates being cruel he’d rather think on his feet and fix the situation. Snake’s death hadn’t been destiny, just an incautious bastard getting what was coming to him.

Destiny was what you made of it. It wasn’t destiny that had made him the Kaitou Kid. It had been his father’s choices, and his choices, and he knew damn well that any pain or problems that had resulted… he had seen them coming, and made his choice. He wasn’t going to whine about destiny giving him a bum hand, not when he’d stacked the deck.

He didn’t think it was any sort of fate or destiny that had brought him face-to-face with Kudo Shinichi, either, any more than he thought fate had brought him face-to-face with Hakuba Saguru. They were the best, dammit, of course they’d meet sooner or later. And once they met, once Kid had escaped, they’d keep meeting, wouldn’t they? It was only natural for the hunter to become fascinated with an elusive prey.

So what if some weird chick had had a dream with his and Kudo’s matching face in it? He looked like Toichi had when he was young, and Yuusaku resembled him as well. They could well have just been talking about their fathers, a similar genetic fluke leading them to look like brothers. It wasn’t fate that had brought him and Kudo across the Syndicate. It was people’s belief in fate and their decisions, conscious or unconscious, to make it happen.

He wasn’t after the Syndicated because it was his “destiny”, either. He was doing it because the bastards had killed his father, plain and simple. Good ol’ revenge, just like Batman. Hakuba hadn’t been too far off the mark with that comparison.

The Syndicate had forged the Silver Bullets in the flames of their own fear. Unwittingly brining the prophecy to pass in their attempt to avoid it.

Still, the tape had been a shattering thing. His father’s purpose in becoming Kid... he’d been trying to stop the Syndicate long before Kaito was even born. First to satisfy his own misplaced guilt at teaching one of their assassins some invaluable skills and then... to protect him.

_He died because—_

“Kaito-kun?” Yuusaku said, stepping back into the room. “Any surprises?”

“Not really,” Kaito said softly. “I don’t really believe in fate and all that junk. The only reason that we’re in danger from the Syndicate is that _they_ do. All that was surprising was that to realize that the whole time, the real reason Tou-san did it all...”

“He wanted to protect you,” Yuusaku said. “By the time he realized that you were in danger from Them, he’d realized the worldwide influence that They held... and how deeply They believed in the ‘prophecy’ that made you and Shinichi dangers. He couldn’t just ignore it and pray that you’d never cross paths, because They were doing precisely the opposite. So he met ‘fate’ head-on. He made himself a nuisance and let them see his face in the hope that They’d think it was _him_. Same with me...”

“He _let_ Them see his face?!” Kaito said in shock. “They knew who he was from the start?!”

“They knew his face, They just didn’t know he was Kuroba Toichi,” Yuusaku corrected. “Assassins do not generally spend much time at magic shows. They knew who I was, They just didn’t know that I was deliberately making myself a nuisance or that I even knew that they existed. The end result was that They thought They’d found their ‘Silver Bullet’... Toichi-kun. The Kaitou Kid. They devoted a lot of time and resources to killing the Kid, completely overlooking two defenceless little boys. I didn’t really believe in fate either, just coincidence... we thought that since They believed so deeply in the prophecy, They might as well have a target that could fight back... a target they’d have a hard time killing.”

“Who made that prophecy anyway?” Kaito asked. “Bogus dreams...”

“It seems the Organization’s head heard the prophecy from some deeply trusted source,” Yuusaku explained. “And none of them are willing to question their leader’s word. They do believe that you and Shinichi are a danger...”

“And that only led them to _make_ us into dangers,” Kaito snorted. “Baka.”

“I don’t imagine it has any bearing on the situation as it is now,” Yuusaku said with a little smile. “I just thought you deserved to know _why_ all of this happened to you.”

“Yeah...” Kaito said. Yuusaku stood to leave. “But then... he died because...”

Yuusaku glanced back at Kaito’s whispered fear. “He didn’t die because of you, Kaito-kun,” Yuusaku said softly. “If you believe that, then you believe in fate and destiny... you believe that all of this is out of your hands. He died because of the Syndicate. If anything, he died _for_ you... and as a parent myself, I can’t imagine anything better to die for. Don’t go feeling helpless or as if you’re to blame, Kaito-kun.  The situation is not out of your hands. The situation is _never_ out of the Kaitou Kid’s hands. Always in control, always full of surprises... is that not the Kaitou Kid?”

“Yeah,” Kaito said with a smirk. “I don’t like to blame fate. If you want a job done right, do it yourself.”

“Toichi-kun lives again,” Yuusaku chuckled. “Just remember... he loved you very much. If there’s anything left you could do for him, it’s not to join him yet. Try not to get reckless again. The game is going to get ever more dangerous... and he wouldn’t want you to die.”

“Yeah, why negate his hard work?” Kaito laughed. “By the way... the diamond...”

“I was wondering what you did with the real one,” Yuusaku said, arching an eyebrow.

“Nicked off with it during Kudo Shinichi’s periodic comings and goings,” Kaito said with a shrug.

“So often, with such a flashy thief, is the possibility of old-fashioned cat burglary forgotten...”

“It’s in a locker at Tropical Land,” Kaito explained. “Jii-chan’s got the key somewhere. As low-tech as security gets, huh?”

“I’ll go talk to him tomorrow,” Yuusaku said with a nod. “Shinichi wants to try a drug trial soon, try a day in his real body. I’d rather get the Syndicate out of the way first, if they see him... he and Ran-kun are going to a few familiar places to try and jog his memory.”

“Yeah... ‘jog his memory’,” Kaito sniggered. Yuusaku rolled his eyes.

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Saguru sat up late, researching Kudo Shinichi. It was probably the displacement that Aoko had referred to; deflecting his mind from the vast amounts of death in the past few days, from the “Kid-heist-turned-massacre” that he’d heard journalists arguing over a snappier name for to the more personal loss of his father’s death. His mother was around somewhere, but as far as Saguru could tell she’d only dropped by the house as long as it took to reconfigure her makeup and don a new black dress. The longest he’d seen her was at his father’s funeral, and even then he’d spent more time with Hattori’s father than her.

Possibly how bizarre the prospect of an adult turning into a child was would hit him later, once he’d gotten down to sifting what had to be a massive emotional backlog, or maybe he’d been telling the truth when he’d said that prolonged exposure to Kuroba and Akako had desensitised him to bizarre. But Edogawa Conan being Kudo Shinichi _did_ actually make sense. He was far from a normal kid, Saguru had known from the first time he’d met him in the Sunset Manor. He’d read about Kid’s confrontations with the boy, of course, but they hadn’t really prepared him for what Edogawa Conan was. The fact that a man falling dead at the dinner table didn’t make the boy bat an eye hadn’t struck Saguru as _too_ odd—the child lived with a detective that was gaining a reputation as a Shinigami around, after all. Nor had the little show he’d put on for the old lady to try to get her to reveal an escape route, as it _had_ just been a show, after all... or so Saguru’d thought at the time. It had been the speed of his response to Kid. He’d popped up the lid of his watch—which Saguru hadn’t neglected to notice had crosshairs on it—and had it trained on “Mori Kogoro” just before the old lady had jumped out of the helicopter. The boy had already noticed Kid and was about to take him out in a way that wouldn’t alert Kid to the fact that he was about to get his ass handed to him.

Plus, that he even _had_ a watch shooting what had transpired last night to be tranquilizers was not normal. Saguru had never been one for toystores even when he _was_ a child, preferring books, but he was reasonably sure that hidden tranquilizer guns were not something you could acquire at the local Toys ‘R’ Us. For whatever reason, the boy had gone to the trouble of procuring or creating something that may well have been invented by Q, and it was the whatever reason that caught Saguru’s thoughts, particularly after he next saw the boy in action.

Edogawa Conan was sharp. He was calm and composed under pressure, even when bodies were raining down. Saguru would quietly admit that at the false Tantei Koshien, he had been way off the mark, allowing his predisposition to suspect thieves to cloud his judgement. Hattori had been off too, at first, he would more freely admit. Hattori’d picked up rapidly on what the boy was trying to say as Saguru had, he was sure, but that was just it; Edogawa Conan had proven himself to be a sharper detective that others nearly three times his age. It actually made sense to find out that, technically, they weren’t.

And now, apparently, Hattori Heiji had gone the same way. Saguru decided that he ought to go visit the Kudo’s again sometime. He could use a good laugh. Not much made him laugh these days, but he figured that the sight of Hattori in a child’s onesie ought to do it.

Kudo had come up against Kid once before shrinking, Saguru knew. The other detective had come incredibly close to catching the thief, as well, but then Kid had escaped. That was the clock tower heist. To this day, the clock tower remained, as the police never did figure out the code.

When Kudo had been asked about the code, all he’d said was, “maybe he’s not that bad.”

 _That’s because..._ there had been a picture of the code as well. Saguru had stared at it for a couple of minutes before laughing softly.

 _Even when he’s being Kid, he’s protecting her, huh?_ Saguru chuckled, remembering Akako talking about how upset Aoko had been about the clock’s impending destruction. He remembered Aoko running away from him, hopefully back to Kaito.

 _I’ll also have to find out if she reached him... After all, perhaps it’s about time somebody protected_ him...

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_There really is nothing..._

Akako rubbed her temples. No other witch had heard of the Pandora either, which meant that how to find it was solely dependent on a legend that was either corrupted beyond recognition or true—and thus protected by an immortal, who would likely be unwilling to see their jewel destroyed.

As for destroying it...

She had asked Lucifer, and she couldn’t help but feel that his answer was her punishment for threatening to dump a bucket of water over him.

_I do not know... but you did._

She had first wondered if He was lying, for aforementioned head-messing purposes, but she knew that this couldn’t possibly be true. Demons and spirits simply did not ever lie. They could clam up and refuse to say anything, or tell the truth in such a convoluted and cryptic way that it could be vastly misinterpreted, but they _did not lie_. It was almost as if they _couldn’t_. Akako had often wondered why. Perhaps it was because they dealt with the dead more than the living, a species that had no use or reason for lying. Akako thought of all the comic-book supervillans who revealed their entire evil plan to the hero because (they thought) he was about to die. Trying to BS the dead was like trying to give a toy sword to a Yakuza thug. They simply toss it aside and demand the real thing, though more often than not they already have it.

Which meant that the key to destroying the Pandora, striking a probably-fatal blow to the Syndicate, saving her friends and countless other lives... lay in her lost memories.

Memories that were only a teardrop away.

It should be so easy, right? One tear—they were never far when she thought of this choice—and hopefully she’d have the presence of mind to scream the information that they needed before falling into the hellfire.

Because that’s what would happen to her, she knew. Once, when she had been a young witch, only five years into the craft, she had seen another witch cry. A single tear had fallen, and then...

Screaming. Kami, the screaming. Akako had never known what horrors had lain in the other woman’s past, but she could see them cutting her to the bone. She’d curled up, clutching her chest, screaming and screaming, and the youkai that had once served her had crowded around, whispering things, her fears and pains and regrets...

Hellfire in the mind. Burning in the soul. An eternity of pain, this time with no escape. Not ever.

That was why Akako had never been curious about her past before. She feared it. Whatever had driven her to slit her wrists and sell her soul to Lucifer... it would have been immeasurably painful, unbearably so. She had given it up, knowing full well the consequences. If she had made that choice, then surely there was no way that she could want back what she’d given away?

 _But that was when I was alone,_ Akako. _When I had nobody to leave behind... nobody to help. When nothing I was or knew had any value to anybody. But now..._

“Surely,” she whispered, “If I’m not alone at the time... if someone’s there to tell me that it’s all right, that it’s all over... it won’t hurt as much?”

“That was what Kuroko-sama said, I believe,” her youkai servant said.

“Go away,” Akako snapped, but he was right; she’d tried talking to Kuroko, but what could she say? How could she deal with demons that she couldn’t see, didn’t know, existed only in her friend’s mind? What could she do? In the end, she hadn’t been able to do anything but watch in horror as her friend faded into the shadows, never to return.

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_ Thirty Years Ago _

_It was all gone. She stared on as the building burned. Hanako’s daughter had been locked up in the infirmary there. First she’d been locked up alone, after her rebellion, but then the girl had found some way to slit her wrists._

_She couldn’t just leave. She’d been the Syndicate’s since she was born. There was no escape from that. She wasn’t going to be executed. She’d already shown that she wanted death._

_Red Rum was too cruel to give it to her._

_Then, in the night... first there’d been complaints as they cameras in the infirmary fizzled out. Then the whole building had exploded into fire._

_Only one body was never found._


	72. Hidden Links

_What is it?_ Ai wondered, tapping her fingers on the desktop. _What’s the link?_

She should really be focusing on APTX 4869, she knew; there _had_ to be some special link between her, Kudo and Hattori to produce the identical effect. But her mind kept drifting to Vermouth, her disbelief that the bitch could actually _die_. It was an oddly freeing sensation, knowing that the woman was gone, could never hurt her or Kudo again. It was a freedom that Ai hadn’t felt since before meeting Vermouth.

At sixteen, she’d graduated early from college overseas—with honours—and had returned to Japan to begin on her parent’s APTX research. One week in, just as she was settling into her lab and adjacent apartments, Vermouth appeared.

 _“So you’re the new head researcher for Project Pandora?” the blonde said, her gaze sweeping over the lab. “My, but aren’t you_ young _.”_

_“I’m very capable of continuing the research,” Sherry said, keeping her voice calm and inflectionless though instinctively feeling that Vermouth, well doing the same, had meant her comment in a derogatory way. “My codename’s Sherry.”_

_“I’m Vermouth,” the older woman replied with a thin token smile. “I don’t suppose we shall see much of each other, but I_ will _be overseeing certain aspects of your research. I’m also here to inform you precisely what your parent’s aims were in the research.”_

_“I understood that it was something to slow down the effects of aging,” Sherry said._

_“Not slow them down—_ stop _them,” Vermouth said softly. “You, like your parents and grandparents, are going to seek a way to develop the Elixir of Eternal Youth.” She said the last words in an odd tone of voice, half mocking, half..._ hateful.

_Sherry stared at her in shock. “Eternal Youth? Immortality?”_

_“Do you doubt its possibility?” Vermouth said sharply. “This project was demanded by Anokata... if you do not feel capable—”_

_“I am very capable,” Sherry cut her off. “Well... Immortality, eh? That will be a challenge... but I haven’t had a real challenge in a long time.”_

_“Good,” Vermouth said, though it was thin and cold. Sherry could already tell that this woman hated her, even though she wasn’t sure why. “Oh, and just remember, little girl... this project may be important and you may be brilliant, but that does not mean that you are not_ expendable _... is that understood?”_

From the first moment, they’d simply rubbed each other up wrong; and on Ai’s end, at least, that dislike had been turned to fear by Vermouth’s elevated position, and thus her power over both herself and her sister. Things had only been made worse by her friendship with Gin.

Though he wasn’t on the Project—he was an assassin, plain and simple—he was privy to the truth of it, though Ai hadn’t known why for a long time. He had been fascinated by it. And his fascination led to him spending a lot of time with Ai, both in the labs and out of it.

Looking back at what she now knew Gin to be, she had been a foolish child to think that she’d formed a real friendship with him, or anything more; she had to wonder if he was even capable of friendship. But she’d been flattered by what she’d thought was his interest in her, and perhaps that was why she hadn’t seen what he really was, or perhaps she’d blinded herself to it. Whatever the case, all it had lead to was a broken heart on her part when he’d killed her sister and then come for her; the realization that to him she was, like so many others, expendable, only necessary so long as she turned her talents to the Syndicate’s aid.

 _Then again, maybe I did get through to him,_ she thought with a sad smile, remembering when he’d almost killed her on the roof of the Haido City Hotel.

“ _I could have killed you there, but I thought I’d let you go out with style..._ ”

_For him, that’s practically sentimentality..._

“How’re ya doin’, Ai-chan?”

She glanced up to see Kazuha coming in with a tea tray. “Oh... Toyama-san...”

“Call me Kazuha-chan,” the girl insisted. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d come see how you were doin’... Yukiko-chan was complainin’ that ya were probably up all night researchin’.”

“Thanks,” Ai said, grabbing a sandwich. “I guess I’m not really getting anywhere. I’m sorry. You must be worried about Hattori-kun.”

“Hey, at least the ahou didn’t put me through all the worry Ran-chan went through,” Kazuha snorted angrily. “Though I don’t think he coulda... Clark Kent glasses or not, that’s Heiji, an’ he never coulda hid it. He could barely hide _Kudo-kun_ , fer Kami’s sake...”

Ai gave a soft little laugh, but her mind was still half out in the snow.

“...but, y’know, if you were a little older, that drug would be the business, wouldn’t it?” Kazuha mused. “I mean, if yer at the bad end of yer forties, just pop a couple of pills an’ hey, yer twenty-nine again...”

“Yeah, so it’s too bad the only people that it’s done that for barely had ten years to give...” Ai began, then froze as it hit her. “Could it really be that simple?” she breathed, spinning her chair around to her computer.

“Ai-chan? Wassup?” Kazuha asked, confused.

“The three people to have shrunk were sixteen, nineteen and eighteen at the time of consumption,” Ai said rapidly. “The next youngest to consume the drug—the youngest to _die_ —was twenty-eight. That’s a gap of nine years between the oldest to shrink and the youngest to die...”

“Yeah...?” Kazuha asked, clearly not following but willing to wait until she could.

“There were no victims between the ages of twenty-one and twenty-five,” Ai said, “but that’s the period of physical maturity. In other words, people’s bodies continue growing until generally sometime between the ages of twenty-one and twenty-five, and until then there are a special set of growth hormones surging through the body at all times—hormones not present after twenty-five at the latest...”

“Oh, I see!” Kazuha gasped. “Ya mean... if the drug had some kinda reaction ta those hormones...”

“That would explain why the effect was different on myself, Kudo-kun and Hattori-kun,” Ai explained, calling up chemical data. “We still had bodies full of those growth hormones... that could have had something to do with how the central nervous system was unaffected, or how the apoptosis stabilized... of course, the drug was dealing with youth and growth hormones _anyway_ , so... Kami, why didn’t I see it before!”

“I’ll leave ya to it,” Kazuha said, backing out of the lab, “but try an’ get some sleep at some point, eh?”

Ai nodded slightly, all her attention now focused on the chemical calculations on-screen.

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“You’re getting out today, Shiratori-keibu?” Shinichi asked as he stuck his head around the door to Shiratori and Takagi’s room to see Shiratori pale but standing.

“Yes, although they’ve warned me to take it easy,” he said. “Takagi-kun’s still in here for a few days, eh?”

“What can I do?” Takagi said, shrugging his good shoulder. “I’m just glad Sato-san wasn’t at that mess last night...”

“Kami, no,” Shinichi said with a wince. He’d been kept overnight even though the bump didn’t seem to have done him any damage, just in case of concussion, but thankfully he was fine and free to go. A dozen or so injured officers weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, though, as well as the twenty who’d been killed. It made Shinichi sick to think about the Syndicate’s power and cruelty, how much they were willing to do, how many people they were willing to kill, all for that jewel.

But it also meant that they were desperate. Secrecy be hanged, their cover had been blown to the cops, and that meant all bets were off. They were desperate, but that made them more dangerous than ever, even without Vermouth.

“No, just stuck in an interrogation going nowhere,” Sato sighed as she stepped into the room. “Yamashiro’s remained mute. Even when we brought up his codename, Schnapps, we still got nothing. By the way, congratulations, Shiratori-keibu.”

“Congratulations?” Shiratori said with a frown. “On living?”

“No, though that too,” Sato said with a smile. “The purges have left a lot of room for promotion, considering how many people in even the higher ranks are now getting to see the cells from the inside. The wake of the whole Yamashiro disaster left Matsumoto as the Superintendant General, would you believe?”

“Really?” Takagi said in surprise. “That’s fantastic! Give him my congratulations!”

“I will,” Sato assured me. “Megure-keibu got promoted to his old position, too! And into _his_ vacancy, they nominated...”

“Me?” Shiratori said, sitting up straight.

“Hey, congratulations!” Shinichi said. “So they’re continuing the hunt for these guys, right?”

“Yeah,” Sato said. “We’re working with the FBI now, on the agreement that their previous involvement stays off the record. Nobody’s too worried about that concession. This has to be one of the biggest crime crackdowns in history...”

“Ah, there you are, Conan-kun!”

Shinichi turned to see Yuusaku coming up the corridor towards him. “I offered to come pick you up,” he explained. “I need to stop and talk to Ginzo-kun, anyway... by the way, I heard about the wave of promotions from Megure-kun,” he added to the rest of the room. “Congratulations!”

“See you!” Shinichi called, following Yuusaku down the hall.

“How are you feeling?” Yuusaku asked once they were out of earshot of the officers.

“A bit of a headache, some nasty nightmares about that massacre to add to my currently stunted little Mental Gallery Of Horrors,” Shinichi said nonchalantly, “but obviously, it could have been worse. Did you find...?”

“Yes,” Yuusaku said, entering Nakamori’s room. “Ginzo-kun... how are you?”

“It’s not as bad as they make out. I could be out of here already,” Nakamori grumbled, indicating his arm. “I’d rather they spent the time and resources on the worse-injured officers. Glad to see you’re alright, Conan-kun. You frightened the life out of me when you grabbed that gun and starting firing back, you know. You’re a surprisingly dead shot.”

“Nah, Mitsuhiko-kun’s much better than me at Robo Shootout,” Shinichi said cheerily.

“And they say video games only encourage violence,” Yuusaku commented with a laugh. “Well, it’s just a good thing you got out of this heist all right... as did Kaito-kun and Aoko-kun.”

“You’ve seen them?” Nakamori said sharply. “What’s happened?”

“I ran into them where Kaito-kun landed,” Yuusaku explained quietly. “Kaito-kun’s currently staying at my house and healing a couple of fractured ribs. We told the doctor he’s Shinichi, which isn’t hard to pull off, as you know. Shinichi is in on it, by the way, but since he’s doing all he can to be less than publicly visible anyway, there shouldn’t be a problem. I also dropped Aoko-kun off at your home. She seems to have taken the revelation of Kaito-kun’s night job with relatively good grace, although I think they’d already been talking for a while by the time I reached them and he does have a rather impressive set of nail-marks on his cheek, so who knows what kind of ups and downs they went through. But they’re all right now, I think. She was saying that she was going to come visit you but the poor girl looked frankly exhausted, so I think it’s good odds that she reached her room and hasn’t woken up yet.”

“So they’re both alive and safe...” Nakamori sighed in relief. “Did he say what he did with the real diamond? The one we picked up off of the man we scraped from the pavement was a fake.”

“It’s safe for now,” Yuusaku said lightly. “The most important part is that they’re both alive and safe, right?”

“Thank Kami,” Nakamori sighed, looking more relaxed than Shinichi had seen him in a while. “The remaining mysteries are how the hell to get these people to talk, since they’re saying _nothing_ under interrogation, and who the hell that sniper was...”

“Sniper?” Yuusaku asked.

“Someone was shooting at those bastards last night,” Nakamori growled. “They weren’t police or FBI, and _nobody_ got past the protective ring—but that meant that they’d have to be shooting from over 650 yards away...”

“The Syndicate does have a number of highly skilled snipers, though,” Yuusaku said thoughtfully. “Shinichi once mentioned that a sniper named Chianti has a range of 600 yards, and her partner Korn is even more skilled...”

“But whoever this was was aiming _at_ the Syndicate,” Nakamori pointed out.

“Indeed,” Yuusaku said, “but only _after_ Kid got moving and bullets started to fly. In other words, it could merely have been the covering of a botched-up mission, silencing their people there—though it seems Snakebite was dealt with anyway...”

“Let’s not go into that,” Ginzo shuddered. “It was a long drop and he wasn’t in great shape to begin with, after that flashbomb hit him in the eye...” he trailed off thoughtfully. “How’d that idiot survive that shot, anyway?” he said, tapping his heart. “I would have thought a bulletproof vest, but the _blood_...”

“Stage blood,” Shinichi shrugged. “He must have had a few bags of it tacked to the vest. He must have been anticipating something like that. If They thought he was dead, They’d let their guard down... I noticed it was congealing and drying too fast, that’s when I realized...” He trailed off as his phone rang. “Moshi moshi?” he said, picking it up as Yuusaku and Ginzo started to talk tactics, turning away to hide his conversation.

“ _Kudo, I’m on a major breakthrough so I want to try a drug trial tomorrow, does that work for you?_ ” Ai said quickly.

“Does it ever,” Shinichi breathed.

“ _I mean, it’s a weekday, so..._ ”

“It’s only third grade, been there, done that,” Shinichi said, mind already spinning with ideas. “I’ll try visiting a few familiar places, maybe go back to Tropical Land...”

“ _Good. I’m giving Hattori-kun a test drug too, but a slightly different strain, just testing something... if I’m right... never mind, I’ll spare you the scientific gibberish. But if I’m right… this could be the real cure._ ”

“No kidding...” Shinichi gasped. “That’s brilliant!”

“ _We’ll just have to be careful, is all... never mind. I’ll see you when you get back. Glad you’re all right, by the way.”_

“Can’t kill me if you try,” Shinichi said. “Gin should know. Anyway, see ya...”

“Who was that?” Yuusaku asked.

“Haibara-san! She’s invited me over to play while Ran-neechan’s in school today!” Shinichi said, affecting his “kiddy” act again. He didn’t have to fake a huge grin.

“I suppose I’d better go drop you off there, then,” Yuusaku said, looking curious. “Look after yourself, Ginzo-kun. Watch your blood pressure.”

“Very funny,” Ginzo snorted.

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Saguru tried not to yawn, wondering why he’d even bothered to come in to school. He hadn’t gotten home until 3am in the morning, working from the Witching Hour to the Devil’s Hour, and then he’d been researching all night. He was too tired for class to mean anything, and nobody he was particularly interested in seeing was around. Kuroba still wasn’t back for obvious reasons, and Aoko was absent as well. So was Koizumi, for some reason.

The purple-haired girl had been acting oddly lately, ever since Kuroba had decided to go full-time on his night job. She acted oddly _anyway_ , but Saguru was used to her normal weirdness, and this was something new. Rather than saying odd things, she was quiet, fidgety, often lost in thought. And the past few days, she wouldn’t stop fiddling with her left wrist.

Saguru hadn’t wondered to long about the reason for that. He’d noticed that she’d never worn the short-sleeved summer uniform, and though she always dressed like a Goth Loli anyway she never wore anything with short sleeves if she could help it. There was one obvious reason for covering your wrists, and Saguru found it unsettling. It was just difficult to imagine the confident, flirtatious girl shutting herself in a bathroom and opening her wrists up with a razor—but then, there was a lot he didn’t know about her past, wasn’t there?

Whatever it was, though—whatever had made her into what she was now, possibly deep into dark magic, Saguru wasn’t much up to disbelieving anything anymore—was hardly a fairy tale. Whatever it was just might be dangerous.

 _And given the way things are these days, what are the odds it has something to do with_ Them...?


	73. Grey Areas

Akako ran along the banks, probably looking like any other student late for class, aside from her black dress. That dream again... it had come back, vivid and violent, and ended in a gunshot...

And at the end, there’d been a vague vision of the river... of...

Akako jerked to a stop, back stiffening as she detected the stinging aura, the purity of...

 _The Wiccan,_ she thought with a groan as she spotted the foreign girl crouching by the banks of the Teimuzu. _Why hasn’t she gone home yet? Or has she detected the presence too?_

“Is this you?” Rose asked as Akako drew near, not looking around—she must have picked up Akako’s dark aura. “But it does not feel evil... just... wrong.”

Akako crouched down next to her, tracing her finger over the odd shoeprints coming out of the water. There were dribbles of blood around them. _Someone injured? Or..._

“It’s not mine,” she said quietly. “It feels supernatural, yes, but the nature of the evil permeating it is not. It is normal, human evil. It is not of Lucifer’s doing.”

“Right...” Rose leaned backwards, sitting on a rock. “Hey... can I ask you?”

“Do not dare try to exorcise me, Wiccan,” Akako said coolly.

The other girl snorted in annoyance. “I will not, I am not strong enough, not outside of Scotland,” she said. “But I am curious. Why did you do it?”

“Do what?” Akako hedged, hand still hovering over the footprints, trying to draw up any trace of aura.

“Sell your soul,” Rose said. “Why would you do that?”

“I can’t remember, but I can give a vague guess,” Akako said carefully. “Lucifer takes your memories, you see. When you’re in so much pain, when your soul screams for release... Lucifer comes, and He takes your memories away, and so they can no longer hurt you. He takes your pain with your soul, and He warns you of this beforehand, so to still choose to sell your soul... the pain must be great indeed.”

“That must be lonely,” Rose said distantly. Akako glanced up at her in surprise. “Your memories are you, right? Your family and friends, things that made you laugh and cry... all gone now. When that is gone, how can you know who you are?” Akako thought of Kudo Shinichi, head wiped by mysterious amnesia, being told that he was Edogawa Conan by the world and so confused about what or who to believe...

“I guess I don’t,” she said lightly, unconsciously clutching her wrist. “All I know is... I didn’t want to be that person anymore.”

“I think I know who that person is, though,” Rose said thoughtfully. Akako stared at her, open-mouthed in shock.

 _How can that be?!_ she thought in confusion. I _’ve been a witch for thirty years, since before she was born! How could she know who I was?_ Aloud, she said calmly, with a Poker Face worthy of Kuroba, “and who is that?”

“That person,” Rose said flatly, “was a wimp. A **pansy**. A _coward._ ” Akako bristled. “That person _ran away_ from what hurt her. She sold her memories because she was too weak to take pain... because she forgot that it does not last forever.”

Furious, Akako stood and made to strike the other girl across the cheek. Rose caught her hand, holding it in an iron grip. Despite claiming to not be powerful outside of her homeland, her white magic crackled against Akako’s between them. “Shut up!” Akako shrieked. “What would _you_ know? You have no idea what I went through!”

“And neither do you!” Rose yelled, thrusting her hand aside. “Stop being so **fucking** self-pitying! You think you are the only one who has ever been hurt? The only person who’s ever suffered? You think you are the only person who has ever wanted to die? Who only wonders, will it hurt? Will it be quick? Will anyone cry at my funeral? For a long time, too, I thought no, nobody would. But things change…” Rose’s rage calmed as she smiled gently. “Until I met people who would cry.”

Akako was struck by the anger of the girl, whose aura seemed too light for such fury. _Wiccan’s power comes from nature and kindness... so how can she go on so about suffering if she..._ “What are you talking about?”

Rose glanced up at the apartment block nearby. “I used to be really… what is the Japanese word? I do not know. **Bipolar** , you know. I called her ‘ **Thorn** ’, a side of me that just wanted to hurt people like I’d been hurt, an animal. I was alone except for **Thorn** , and I let her have control, and no-one complained because everyone was afraid. All I did was fight. But slowly... I stopped fighting for fighting’s sake. I made a friend, you see.”

Akako stood silent, unsure as to where this was going.

“Angela. It was in our first year of high school. I met her through hatred—our hate of a girl who was, how you say, a **bitch**. I had hated her very much since grade school, but Angie had just met her and she was making Angie’s life hell. Lots of people were bullying Angie, actually. She was nice to people and got upset easy. She was scared of being alone, and she was kind to me because I protected her. She wasn’t scared of **Thorn** , and she even encouraged the real me to surface—she actually _liked_ me, and wanted to be my friend, even when no-one else did. I... really wanted to be her friend too, but at the time the only way I could think to do that was to beat the shit out of the people bullying her. She was not happy about that, because she does not like fighting, but she did not stop being friends with me because of it. It is an amazing thing, you know—people who do not give up on you, who know you can change for the better and maybe think you already are. How can I say it? **True friends are people who know all about you and still like you.** ”

“Why are you telling me all of this? What are you trying to say?” Akako said haughtily, but inwardly, her thoughts were spinning. _Kind people...people who care... who see the real you..._

“ _You’re the one who’s lying... lying to your own heart. You shouldn’t make light of a thief like me. Because within that frozen heart of yours, I can see that, hidden deep inside... there’s a beautiful jewel waiting to be found._ ”

“What _am_ I trying to say?” Rose said with a half-laugh. “I am saying that, I guess... there is always a reason to live. Even if it is just one person... because no-one’s ever really alone. Suicide... or Witchcraft... that’s just running away from your pain, and in the end all you do is hurt someone else... whoever it’s left that cares, whether it’s a sibling, a lover or a friend. My best friend... all of my friends... Thanks to them, I didn’t run from the past that hurt me. And one day, it didn’t hurt so much anymore. Maybe it’ll always hurt, just a little. But they gave me the strength to look back on my past and not run away. Thanks to them, _I_ found the strength to look back at my past and say, “thank you. I didn’t want you, but I have you and that can’t be changed. So I’ll thank you. Thank you for making me stronger.” I can say that because, even though sometimes it seems like my past will crush me, I won’t have to stand against it alone. If there’s even one person standing beside me to fight with me, just one person who’s standing there and will stay there... suddenly the pain in my past seems so weak. I can be strong for the people standing with me. Even if it’s just one...” She smiled at Akako, suddenly kind. “Who do you have, Witch? Do you not have anyone who cares about you? Anyone who wants to know the real you? Anyone that you could be strong for?”

“ _Akako-chan!_ ”

“ _A beautiful jewel..._ ”

 “ _You’re quite the mystery, aren’t you, Koizumi-san?_ ”

Akako looked across the river, unable to meet the Wiccan in the eye. Rose was quiet for a while too, giving her time to think. Finally she said, “If you have someone kind enough to care about you, no matter what... do not let them go. People like that... they are rare. And their mere presence is enough to frighten away the beast, an aura like light...”

“I know,” Akako said quietly. She started to walk away, and then paused. “Hey... you do know... to stop being a witch... you only damn yourself to an eternity of hellfire. Lucifer dislikes being abandoned.”

“Then he needs to stop being such a poor loser,” Rose snorted. “You know... If you got your soul back, I bet you could be a powerful Wiccan. If you know love and kindness... you could be very powerful indeed.”

“No-one has ever escaped Lucifer’s retribution before,” Akako responded.

“ **First time for everything** ,” Rose said with a shrug. “May I give you advice? No matter what you go through, always remember... **This too will pass.** ” Akako heard her leave, back to the apartments. She stared down at her own reflection contemplatively, then pulled a picture out of her pocket-New Year’s with Kuroba and Aoko and Hakuba...

 _A single tear will melt my heart,_ she thought, _and the melting will be so painful. Still... is it worth it... if there truly is a beautiful jewel within... are they not worth the most beautiful jewel that I can give them?_

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Miwako sighed in relief as she stepped out of the shower, the hot water having massaged away all of her tensions. She was still a little worried, of course—who wouldn’t be? They still hadn’t stopped this criminal Organization...

But boy, were they close.

Wrapping her dressing gown around herself, she stilled as she heard movement elsewhere in the flat. She hadn’t unlocked the door this morning and hadn’t let anyone in, which meant...

 _Pretty stupid, breaking into a police officer’s flat,_ she thought, grabbing her gun from her dresser drawer, although she didn’t figure she’d need more than her fists to deal with some idiot trying to make off with her DVD player.

When she reached the doorway to the main room, though, she froze. A tall figure into black with long silver hair was bent over her computer, with a laptop connected to it. Somehow, he’d gotten through her passwords, to...

 _Shit_ , she thought as she realized what was on the screen. _Those are copies of the data that I got from Hakuba-kun and the others... and their names are on it... shit!_ She fired a warning shot which missed the man and hit the wall. He whipped around and fired back, narrowly missing Miwako. In the small space, though, it wouldn’t be hard to get a fatal hit in for either of them.

Of course, this bastard _was_ facing Miwako on very literally home turf...

She slid her toe under that tatami mat that never did lay down right and flipped it, tripping the intruder, who was standing on the other end. That was all the time she needed to shoot his gun from his hand. He kicked out, though, as he fell, knocking her gun from hers. As she stepped back, trying to shake the soreness out of her arm, he yanked the connecting cord out from her computer and shoved the laptop into his trenchcoat, evidently set on escaping with the data at least, before diving for his gun again. Miwako grabbed his outstretched arm, trying to flip him, but he turned the tables on her, grabbing her with his left arm and flipping her back.

 _Duh, he was shooting the gun with his_ left _hand_ , she realized, managing to twist as she landed without letting go of his right arm, leading to a very satisfying _crack_ from his arm.

“Bitch!” he snarled, kicking her in the back of the neck. Miwako collapsed, gasping, trying very hard not to black out, rolling to avoid another kick. Stopping by her doorway, she reached up and yanked the wires out of her burglar alarm, very satisfied to see the little red light flash to confirm that, yes, a light had just gone on at the nearest police station to inform the cops there that some poor fool had tried to rob Sato Miwako and they’d better come help.

Normally, of course, it was the houseowner that needed help.

The man was backing away towards the open window as Sato grabbed his gun, levelling it at him. _We’re on the third floor, he_ can’t _be planning..._ but he was. Just as sirens sounded a street away—Miwako lived all of two minutes away from the nearest police station—he dropped backwards out of the window, good left arm outstretched. As Miwako ran to the window, she realized that he had grabbed the classic burglar’s friend, the drainpipe, to slow his fall like a rough fireman’s pole. He landed in a sturdy crouch next to an old black car which Miwako, thanks to her perspective, couldn’t see the plate number of.

They were already speeding away as a police car came onto the street. Leaning out of her window, Miwako pointed out the disappearing car, and the cop in the police car saluted before speeding off after them.

 _How much did they get away with?_ she wondered. _How much data did they get... do they know about Nakamori-keibu and Megure-keibu... oh, Kami, and Kudo-san, he’s a civilian, if they go after him and his family too..._ She jerked out of her thoughts as an ambulance pulled up under the window.

“What happened?” she called out as a man got out of the driver’s side.

“We got a call from a police station nearby,” the paramedic replied. “Apparently somebody broke into a Sato-san’s apartment, and we were given to understand that the we were needed.”

Sato sighed heavily but with a little smirk. _They know me so well..._

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“Aniki, are you all right?” Vodka asked as Gin pulled off his right sleeves, exposing the twisted arm.

“Just get out something to use as a splint,” he said roughly, gripping the twisted arm with his left hand. Vodka dug into the boot for some cloth, hearing a nasty _crack_ and a grunt of pain as Gin snapped the bones back into place. Vodka helped his partner wrap up the wooden splint around his arm. He sat down in the driver’s seat again as Gin tugged his sleeves back into place, keeping his arm straight and sticking it in his pocket for a little support.

“It’s not my gun hand, at least,” he snorted, biting down on a cigarette then putting the packet away and pulling out a lighter for it. “Damn that bitch. Thanks to Snakebite and Schnapps’ messes, though, we don’t have the people to spare to finish her... well, she’ll get hers soon enough, and the rest of them.”

“Did you get the information?” Vodka asked, pulling out and driving down the expressway.

“Enough,” Gin said, pulling open the laptop. “We thought that strike was too well-planned. Somebody had the idea a long time in waiting. They had too much information...” he paused, taking a deep drag on his cigarette, his version of a gasp of surprise. “Well, there’s a familiar name... _Kudo_.”

“Kudo Shinichi?” Vodka said in surprise.

“Not Shinichi... Yuusaku,” Gin said contemplatively. “His father, a mystery writer, known for helping the cops out on occasion... well, isn’t that interesting.”

“I thought he lived in America these days,” Vodka said. “Last I heard, he’d gone into seclusion in his place in LA in between novels...”

“Exactly,” Gin said. “If you’re in seclusion, who’s going to know what country you’re in, so long as you’re out of sight? He’s certainly old enough to have been planning this for a while, depending on how long he’s known about us...”

“How could he know?” Vodka asked.

“Whatever happened to his son, don’t you think he’s liable to know?” Gin said quietly. “I’ve heard of him. He’s got friends in Interpol, the FBI, the police... if he’d decided to do any deeper investigation, he may well have found something.”

“Which makes him a threat, right?” Vodka sneered.

“Yes,” Gin said with a humourless smile. “Head back to one of our clinics so I can get this patched up properly... then, tomorrow, we’ll find out just what he knows... and perhaps what really happened to his son. Then we’ll make sure that that damn family causes us no more trouble. _Ever_.”


	74. Deja Vu

“Shouldn’t you be going to school?” Shinichi asked Ran as he dropped two piles of clothes on the couch for himself and Heiji.

“With everything that’s been going on, this school year’s going to be a loss anyway until all this is over,” Ran pointed out. “Besides, you get yourself into enough trouble when you’re small, Kami knows what kind of trouble you’ll get into as an adult without someone to guide you... and I know what places are liable to trigger memories.” She pinked slightly at this last sentiment, causing Kazuha to giggle.

“So why do _I_ have ta hang around here all day as a test dummy?” Heiji muttered.

“Well, the main reason for this drug trial is that I have to ensure that this antidote has precisely the same effect on both of you, despite being slightly different strains,” Ai said. “If all goes to plan, I’ll be able to work from the composition of this drug and the one that Kudo-kun tried on Christmas, the one that lasted nearly fifty hours, and hopefully have a permanent cure. There’s a lot of scientific gibberish about growth hormones, but I’ll spare you.”

“There really is,” Kazuha muttered with a sigh.

“Honestly, it’s dangerous enough for Kudo-kun to be out and about with the Organization on red alert,” Ai admitted, “but he really does need to try and regain his memories, so as long as he keeps his head down...”

“Like we need to,” Shinichi said pointedly to Heiji.

“Is this revenge fer all th’ height cracks I made at _you_?” Heiji groaned.

“Height cracks?” Shinichi asked, looking genuinely dumbfounded. Ran and Kazuha glanced at each other and rolled eyes as the boys grabbed their piles of clothes and headed for different bathrooms.

“Try and take your pills at the same moment, this is a controlled experiment,” Ai called.

“Exactly five minutes from now,” Shinichi said, tapping his watch. Heiji nodded and jogged up the stairs.

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“Ya actually do that on a regular basis?”

“How should I know?”

“All right, you two,” Ai said as the two teens returned to the living room, full-sized. “Warning signs to watch for; fever and heart pains, like when you first took the pill...”

“Soundin’ more like a druggie trader warnin’ a customer by the minute...” Heiji muttered

“Hey, at least yer back ta normal!” Kazuha said happily.

“Not fer as long as we’d like,” Heiji sighed, tugging the top couple buttons on his shirt open, grinning smugly at the sight of kendo muscle instead of childish skinniness.

Shinichi stretched, looking curiously at his larger body. “You could have reminded me it was going to be that painful,” he said to Ai.

“Sorry,” she said with a shrug, “but you’ve been acting fairly normally recently, so I forgot that you still don’t have much of your actual memories back yet, just what you’ve been told.”

“Which we intend to remedy today,” Ran said, taking her boyfriend’s hand and tugging him towards the door. “Do you have any idea of the time frame, Ai-chan?”

“I just gave them a small dose for research purposes,” Ai said, looking at her watch, “So I don’t suppose it’ll be even twelve hours... length isn’t what we’re after here, though, just confirmation that my theory’s on track.”

“Suppose not,” Heiji shrugged. “Ah, it’s good ta be back ta normal... how did ya ever get used ta that?”

“I don’t know,” Shinichi said, pulling on his coat, “but I hope to find out soon.”

“Have fun, you two!” Kazuha called, waving them off.

“This is slightly weird,” Shinichi said as he and Ran strolled down the now almost empty street. “It’s different and unfamiliar, but at the same time, it’s so much more comfortable that my kiddy body...”

“No memory epiphanies, though?” Ran asked, taking his hand.

“Not really,” Shinichi said, twining his fingers through hers. “Kind of a constant nagging sense of Déjà Vu, though...”

“Well, I’ve got a couple of ideas of where to go,” she said with a little smile.

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“How’d it feel?” Kazuha asked curiously, circling around Heiji and peering at him like a particularly interesting museum exhibit.

“Eh...” Heiji scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “Kinda like bein’ set on fire...”

“Geez!” Kazuha said in shock. “That bad?”

“Yeah, but it ain’t like it lasted long or anythin’,” Heiji shrugged, draping himself over an armchair and stretching his temporarily restored limbs. “Worth it ta be back ta normal fer a while, maybe permanent. Sucks bein’ stuck in here, though…”

“Try not to go stir crazy and start fiddling with things. They’re liable to explode,” Ai said dryly, examining the needles full of blood that she had taken from him and Shinichi. Heiji winced just from looking at them, rubbing his arm. Ai, at least, had clearly remembered his past wisecracks about midgets, if the number of times she had “missed” the vein was any indication. “I’m going to analyze these. I think Hakase’s in his mech lab… can I leave you unsupervised?”

“I’ll keep him on a leash,” Kazuha promised as Heiji spluttered.

He glared at her. “One positive a’ bein’ a midget,” he grumbled as Ai left, “ya can stick yer tongue out at people…”

“Hey, at least we now have proof that ya _have_ matured since grade school,” Kazuha pointed out.

He gave her another glare that indicated that he was wishing he could stick his tongue out at her. “Ahou.” Then he glanced over at her again. “Hey... back before Gin an’ Vodka got ta us, weren’t ya gonna ask me somethin’?”

“Um...” Kazuha said, blushing a little and praying that his tantei-memory wouldn’t fully kick in when he snapped his fingers as he remembered.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I was gonna tell ya the story a’ what happened in Kyoto when we were kids, wasn’t I? My first love.”

“Yeah,” Kazuha sighed, resigned to the fact that this conversation _was_ going to happen after all. “Ya said ya found her in Kyoto, but ya wouldn’t say who she was or what happened...”

“Not much had changed,” he said with a shrug. Kazuha felt her heart sink.

 _Does that mean, he’s still...?_ “So what happened back then?” she asked, her voice falsely bright.

Heiji tipped his head back, as if looking for the memory. “I was explorin’ some a’ the nearby temples,” he explained. “When I was doin’ that, a window I was climbin’ on broke, an’ I fell through an’ hit my head on the floor inside. Dunno how long I was outta it after that, but what woke me up was the singin’.”

“Singing?” Kazuha asked.

“Yeah,” Heiji said. “A little girl, singin’ a song—that ‘The Children’s Song’ thing. Anyways, I climbed up ta th’ window ta have a look. Then I saw her, standin’ underneath th’ sakura tree, playin’ with a ball...”

“ _I couldn’t find you, so I played with a ball I found in the yard,_ ” she remembered hearing herself saying. _Hang on a mo..._

“I thought she musta been a grade or two above, she looked so grown-up and pretty,” Heiji said reminiscently, still staring at the ceiling rather than her. Was she imagining it, or were his cheeks a little darker than usual? “She had ‘er hair all done up, an’ makeup too, and wearin’ this cute li’l red kimono... with all the sakura petals swirlin’ around, gotta say, she was one a’ the most beautiful things I ever seen...”

“Heiji...” Kazuha said, her own cheeks aflame but still desperate to know, “That... I remember that...”

“Yeah,” Heiji said thoughtfully, “I thought it was a kinda funny coincidence when ya told me that story about when ya were a kid... An’ then ya sang it wrong, talkin’ about Ane-san rather than th’ bride...” Heiji looked down at her, and there was no mistaking the blush now, “just like ya did back then.”

“So... it was... _me_...?” Kazuha said in shock, thinking, realizing, could it be that this faceless figure from Heiji’s childhood, the girl she’d been so jealous of, was...

“Like I said,” Heiji said quietly, “ain’t much changed since then.”

“Um...” Kazuha couldn’t meet his gaze, blushing furiously, fiddling with her charm. Then she remembered. “Hey, Heiji, about the picture of ya I had... it wasn’t me that graffitied it, I swear. Ran-chan told me that Kuniesue-san had done it ‘cause he found the picture inside an’ got pissed off, an’, um...”

“So ya had a picture of me anyways?” Heiji said curiously, getting up and walking over to her. “Why?”

“Umm...” Kazuha was blushing furiously now. _What can I say? What if... but he said nothing had changed... does that mean he still... ahh, what do I do?_

“ _By the way, Kazuha-chan...” Ran said with a wink, “thanks for the advice! Trust me, it worked perfectly!”_

 _Well, if it worked fer Ran-chan..._ she thought stubbornly, then, before she could think about it enough to stop herself, she leaned up to kiss Heiji.

He went rigid with surprise for a moment. _Please... don’t let me be wrong..._ Kazuha prayed, squeezing her eyes shut. Then he leaned forward, kissing her back, wrapping his arms around her to hold her steady, which was a good thing since Kazuha’s knees had just turned to jelly.

The world could have ended there and then, and she wouldn’t have cared, not if it meant spending forever like this.

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“Yeah, this place triggered something before...” Shinichi said, crouching on the ground at the end of the alley. “This is... where it happened, I think. Where I shrank. It really freaked me out when the memories first started returning... hell, it freaks me out a little _now_ , but... it’s not really pulling anything back.”

“You were here already,” Ran said with a shrug. “Come on. I want to show you something, it’s nearly time...”

“Time?” Shinichi asked, following her along the paths of Tropical Land, but in his head he could hear the faint echo of his own voice saying something similar. _Something I... showed her...?_

“Stop here,” Ran said, in the middle of a courtyard. Shinichi glanced around. Tropical Land, though open, was largely empty, hosting only tourists whose school years had not yet restarted and daytripping adults in couples or with small children. There was nobody else at all in the little courtyard.

“Just give it a minute...” Ran started, and then laughed happily as fountains shot to life all around them. “There we go!”

“Wow!” Shinichi said, glancing around at the dancing sheets of water.

“ _Look! A rainbow!_ ”

“Is there...?” he asked, then grinned and tugged on Ran’s arm. “Look! A rainbow!”

Ran giggled, wrapping her arms around him. “Do you remember? You showed me these... on our first date, a long time ago.”

“I still don’t so much remember as have major déjà vu,” Shinichi admitted. “But I remember... I was happy...”

“Hey...” Ran asked, facing him. “Do you remember... this...?” She leaned up and kissed him.

The sensation was something warm, something beautiful, something familiar; not familiar in the sense of conscious memory, perhaps, but simply in that it was _right_ ; she was something that he could never let go of, never forget. How could he? She was the only thing that mattered, all that he lived for…

“Yeah, I remember,” he said softly, as he held her, watching the fountains fall. “I didn’t really forget. From the first moment, when I was cold and confused and so afraid... then you were there, and somehow, it was all right. Everything was all right... because you were there. I never forgot how much I loved you...”

“Good,” she said softly. “Do you know... that’s the first time you’ve ever actually said it? That you...” her cheeks pinked. “That you love me?”

“Haven’t I said it before?” Shinichi said, bemused. “I thought I must have... because it’s so...” he trailed off as Ran leaned up and kissed him again.

“I’m glad,” she said. “Because I love you too, so much... I’d hate to think you really forgot me...”

“I never could,” he promised, “and soon... it’ll all be all right. I promise.”

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 _I was right... well, if it isn’t the Black Knight,_ Jodie thought in surprise, seeing the fountains fall around the embracing couple. _I ought to catch them out for skipping school, but I can hardly talk..._

Jodie was suspicious. Eri had called and told her that Edogawa Fumiyo was in fact Edogawa Conan’s mother, but she’d simply always had to visit him in disguise so that the Syndicate couldn’t track her and thus find him; supposedly he was in hiding at the Mori’s, though Jodie couldn’t imagine why they thought he’d get himself into any _less_ trouble there. It still worried her, though, so she’d been going to see Conan when she’d seen Ran and Shinichi crossing the streets several cars ahead. That had surprised her; Conan hadn’t been at school—she’d checked there first—so if he was staying home, either ill or to look for his memories, Jodie would have thought that Ran would be with him. Plus, it had been implied by Shinichi’s father that he was pursuing his case in some secrecy elsewhere. So why was he wandering around Tokyo on a date with Ran?

Things had gotten odder when they reached Tropical Land. Jodie had been wondering if she was wrong and he wasn’t actually Kudo Shinichi—after all, she’d only seen the boy once before, over a year before, and she hadn’t really gotten a proper look at him yet today—when she realized that they were going to all of the rides that Agasa-Hakase had taken Conan on, and had even gone down the alleyway that had so scared Conan… the alleyway where Conan had been found over two years before.

And on top of that, from the snippets of conversation that she’d heard between the two as she shadowed them...

 _It sounds almost like..._ He’s _got amnesia as well,_ she thought with a frown. _The Hakuba boy had been saying something about a drug... Amnesial. If Vermouth really did something like that... well, for one, we still don’t know why she’s so loathe to kill the boy, though it certainly would have been more effective... anyway, is she putting that stuff in the water or something?_

That was a theory, a rational, possible one. But other theories were suggesting themselves, other explanations for two people having apparently developed simultaneous amnesia, explanations for their obvious physical and mental similarities.

 _Demented theories,_ she thought, shaking her head. _You’re an FBI investigator, girl, and that means sticking with the rational theories... no need for weird ideas about poor **Cool Kid** or Vermouth..._

Of course, that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Given what she’d seen of the boy, what she’d seen him do, the strange theory made just as much sense as the rational one, and if the strange theory was true, what other bizarre theories could prove true? How many of her strange theories about Vermouth’s apparent agelessness...

 _Just because her cheek bled..._ she thought, remembering Shuu’s proof for the reality of her face. _She could just age well, some endlessly irritating women do... or there’s plastic surgery, even if your face ends up with more plastic than a **Barbie Doll** , it _can _still bleed... all sorts of perfectly rational explanations..._

But it was coming to her too; that insidious little idea which, no matter how bizarre, how impossible it seems, simply wouldn’t go away. It sat in the back of her brain, niggling away, pointing out little bits of evidence, support for the theory, slowly making it seem less and less strange and impossible.

It worried Jodie, because she’d found out that false theories and lies fell apart easily; the impossible fell apart in no time. It was the truth that wouldn’t go, that kept nagging, making the impossible into the merely improbable.

 _Well, if anybody’s liable to know..._ she thought, getting up to go talk to the two of them, but then stopped as they were suddenly swarmed.

“ **Hey, long time no see!** ”

“ **Oooh, it’s the lovebirds again**!”

“...Who are they?”

“ **What’d he say?** ”

“ **He can’t have forgotten _all_ of us, right?** ”

“ **Now see you, Jimmy...** ”

“I’m sorry, I thought they might have gone home already...”


	75. Deja Vu All Over Again

“You have amnesia? Geez,” Patrick sighed.

 “You were probably better off spared memories of this lot,” Sam laughed.

“ **Do you still remember how to speak English?** ” Harry asked. “ **Because I’m shite at Japanese...** ”

“ **Well, yeah,** ” Shinichi said. “ **... When did we meet before?** ”

“ **You two were on a date at Christmas,** ” Jonathan informed him. “ **We ran into you at the skating rink**...”

“ **Aye, and we met Ran here when her old man came to solve a murder case at our place,** ” Shaun said. “ **And the wee man.** ”

“Conan,” Charles supplied. “ **I don’t often forget the name of someone shorter than me.** ”

“ **It’s good to see you all again!** ” Ran said cheerily. “ **Did you make it to the last heist?** ”

“ **Aye,** ” Patrick said with a grin. “ **Terrifying when we heard the gunfire, but then the Kid came leaping out of the window and caught that girl and flew off... amazing!** ”

“ **Jinky bastart,** ” Bets laughed.

“ **You’re such a Weegie, KJ** ,” Kirsteen said dryly.

“ **Yeah, but remember that guy who hit the dirt?** ” Hannah said with a wince. “ **Bloody _fountain_ of...** ”

“ **Blood?** ” Robert helpfully suggested.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to rememorize all of their names...” Shinichi muttered.

“It’s all right, I still haven’t,” Ran muttered back.

“Hey, some of us speak good enough Japanese to understand you,” Angela, said, sticking her tongue out playfully, but she also looked a little worried. She kept glancing at Rose, who kept staring around them, as if watching for something.

“ **The shadows are drawing in, I can feel them!** ” Rose hissed. “ **They feel evil...** ”

“ **Shadows?** ” Shinichi asked.

“ **I can feel it coming for you,** ” she said urgently. “ **A shadow with killer’s eyes...** ”

“ _...what’s up with this guy’s eyes? They’re the eyes of a cold-blooded killer..._ ”

Shinichi suddenly froze stiff, glancing around, suddenly terrified. Of course, if they were seen out here...

“We’ve been here all day,” he said to Ran. “Maybe we should head back soon...”

She glanced back at her watch. “Yeah, maybe so... nice seeing you all again!”

“It’s coming soon, you know,” Rose called after them. “You’re running out of time. There’s only ten days left...”

“ **What are you babbling about?** ” Madeline asked curiously as the two of them started heading away.

“ **Is it anything to do with this morning?** ” Angela asked. “ **You said you sensed some kind of demon coming out of the Teimuzu...** ”

“ **Not a demon, not quite evil,** ” Rose said. “ **Just... strange, unnatural. What’s after him... _that’s_ evil.** ”

Shinichi nearly broke into a run. He wasn’t sure why, but the foreign girl’s words were giving him a bad premonition—a feeling that he was being watched, watched by cold green eyes.

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“What I want to know is why ya didn’t tell me sooner,” Kazuha huffed.

“I didn’t realize till ya told me that story, did I?” Heiji snorted. “Besides... I dunno, it just made me kinda nervous.”

“The _one time_ where it’d be alright ta be as brutally honest as ya are about everythin’ else...” Kazuha sighed. Heiji just shrugged but didn’t say anything. To be honest, his brain had shut down entirely the moment she’d kissed him, reloading with entirely new programs. Kazuha was important to him, yeah, but before then he hadn’t really consciously thought of them as more than best friends, or even considered that they ever would be. But the second she’d kissed him, his perspective flipped, seeing the same girl in an entirely new way; not the silly little girl he’d gotten cuffed to, but a young woman, a stupid, impetuous, beautiful woman...

A woman who’d been a part of his life as long as he could remember. A woman that, he had had occasion to realize, he was terrified to lose. The one person he wanted in his future more than any other.

That was when he’d kissed her back.

She’d insisted on going through the little dance of the changing-relationship talk, but it hadn’t taken long. They were both frank and honest—too much in his case, Kazuha never seemed to tire of saying—and they both knew what they wanted. And that was each other.

His father had gone back to Osaka the previous day to oversee the “Hunt-the-Heiji” as he’d jocularly termed it, but when he came back, either when Heiji was cured or Kazuha’s parents decided she’d finally skipped too much school, he was definitely in for at least one surprise. On the other hand, given the expressions on the faces of him and the rest of their parents on New Year’s, maybe not.

Now they were curled up on the couch, watching TV. Well, to be precise, Heiji was lying on the couch and Kazuha was lying on his chest, one of his arms draped over her, the other propping his head up, leaving her in control of the remote, which for some reason didn’t particularly bother him. Ai had surfaced from her lab occasionally, but there were no changes. Aside from the periodic explosions from the mechanical lab that Agasa was working in, it was fairly quiet, just the two of them; done talking, just being together for the last time until whenever Ai came up with the true antidote, which would hopefully be soon.

Kazuha shifted a little uncomfortably. “Heiji, you’re kinda toasty. Do ya feel all right?”

“It’s kinda warming up in here,” Heiji admitted, fanning himself with his baseball cap. “Ya not bakin’?”

“Are ya kiddin’?” Kazuha shivered. “It’s _January_...”

“You have the fever?” Ai said sharply, popping out of nowhere and making Heiji feel like the heart pains had started early.

“His temperature’s been risin’ for a coupla minutes,” Kazuha said.

“Shit, ya mean I’m runnin’ outta time already?” Heiji groaned, fanning himself more vigorously.

“Length of time wasn’t the main consideration here,” Ai said, dialling her mobile. “Kudo-kun? Are you getting the fever...? Why’re you doing _that_?” She was frowning, looking a little confused. Then she paled for a moment before regaining her composure. “Better paranoid than sorry, I suppose... You’re nearly back, right? Good. All right, see you in a few minutes.” She hung up. “They’re on their way back anyway, Kudo-kun felt like he was being watched,” she explained. “Kami, I hope it was just him being paranoid...”

“Yeah,” Heiji agreed, suddenly feeling chilled. _But if They_ are _watchin’ him... if they see ‘im change..._

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Ran started to relax as they jogged down the Beika street. It was empty—everyone was at work or school—and they didn’t seem to be followed. Shinichi wiped sweat from his forehead as they slowed, then they both jumped a mile as his phone rang.

“It’s Haibara-san...” he said, checking the display and flipping it open. “Haibara-san? ...oh... oh, yeah, I think so, actually,” he said, wiping more sweat from his forehead. “Good thing we’re nearly there, we were coming back early... I... just had a bad feeling. Like I was being watched. I know... yeah. Yeah, we are. All right. See you.”

“What’s wrong, Shinichi?” Ran asked worriedly, tugging him over to the side of the road, out of the way of an approaching car.

“It’s the fever,” Shinichi said, untying his scarf. “We’re nearly out of time—”

_Crack_

Ran shrieked as Shinichi jerked, her shriek louder than the silenced bullet tearing through his right shoulder, and he slumped against the wall, turning to face the shooter. The black car had stopped behind them, and a man had stepped out, a man with long silver hair and cold green eyes, his right sleeve dangling loose as his right arm sat in a sling, the left hand holding a gun pointed straight at them.

A familiar man. A man she had seen a terrible day over two years ago.

“Gin,” Shinichi hissed, eyes widening, terrifying memories returning as he pushed Ran behind him. The man’s lips curled into a cold smile.

“Well, well,” he said mockingly. “While hunting for the treasure map, it seems that I’ve inadvertently stumbled upon the treasure. It’s been a long time... Kudo Shinichi.”

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 “... and that brings us here,” Kaito sighed, finishing the tale of the Kaitou Kid from his point of view. Aoko hadn’t said anything, letting him talk.

“I’m still pissed off at you for lying, you know,” she said eventually. “I take back what I said about hating you, but I’m still pissed off at you for lying.”

“I’m just thankful that you’re alive to do it,” Kaito sighed.

“I should probably leave and go see Otou-san,” she said, checking her watch. She hadn’t seen her father yet, but she also needed a little time to churn everything over, the shocking revelations about Kaito… and Toichi-ojisan… “I haven’t yet, even though Hakuba-kun said he was in the hospital... but I just crashed last night, and this morning I just had to know the truth. I had to know what was going on, you know?” She covered his hand with hers. “I mean... I trust you, Kaito. I know this goes beyond the law. I’m just... really sorry that...”

“Shh,” Kaito said, pressing his finger to her lips. “If you start apologizing I’ll start apologizing, and we agreed last night that it would get us nowhere, right? I don’t care that you ran... all that matters to me is that you came back. So we’re past it, okay?”

“Okay,” Aoko said, her eyes swimming a little as she fought not to start crying again. She stood up, wiping her eyes. “I’d better go… hospital visiting hours will be over in—”

Kaito shushed her again, but this time his voice was low, an urgent sparkle in his eyes. Aoko froze, listening to distant sounds.

A car engine, rolling down the street, sounding odd, old. It stopped, and there was silence for a moment, then a scream rent the air.

A familiar voice.

“Is that...?” she whispered.

“Sounds like Mori-san,” Kaito said quietly. “What’s—?” he tried to lever himself up on his elbows, grunting in pain, and leaned against the windowsill to look out. Aoko ran around the edge of the bed to look out too.

All she saw was the boot of an old-fashioned black car. The rest was out of sight—the window was at the wrong angle to look.

“Stay there,” she hissed. “Don’t you _dare_ move.” She ran through the house, going to a room a couple of doors down, where Kudo Yukiko was already looking out of the window, pale white, a phone clasped to her ear.

“Yes... I think so, I can’t see, oh Kami... but what if he’s—? No, wait...” Aoko could only see more of the car, a man in a black suit leaning against it and watching something out of Aoko’s line of sight. She could see up the other end of the street, though, where a woman was hiding up against the wall around the corner, fiddling with something in her bag. “All right... be careful...”

“What’s going on, Kudo-san?” Aoko asked.

“That car...” Yukiko whispered fearfully. “It’s one of _Them_. Don’t leave the house, Aoko-chan...”

“Why have they stopped?” Aoko asked, feeling her heart freeze at the mention of _Them_ , their black clothes reminding her of the snarling man in black who had fallen away from her only the night before.

“Yuusaku thinks they were coming here,” Yukiko said, “but that they’ve stopped and aren’t coming in here or Agasa-Hakase’s... might mean that they’ve found what they were looking for in the street... oh, Kami, _Shin-chan_...”

“We have to help them!” Aoko cried.

“Don’t leave, Aoko-chan!” Yukiko said sharply, indicating the woman down the road. “I think help’s on its way...”

The woman was leaning around the corner, holding a gun.

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While Heiji fanned himself ever more vigorously, Ai had suddenly curled up, shivering like she was in a snowstorm.

“Ai-chan? What’s wrong?” Kazuha asked desperately.

“Oh, Kami,” Ai whispered, her voice weak and faint. “They’re here... and not just any of them... it’s... oh Kami, why _him_...”

“ _Them_?!” Heiji yelped, jerking upright, but Kazuha grabbed him.

“Let’s get hidden, quickly!” she hissed, pulling him and the shivering Ai over to where a pale and silent Agasa was indicating Ai’s basement.

“Screw that, I’m havin’ a look,” Heiji snorted, instead running up the stairs to peer out of Agasa’s windows, paling to a normal person’s complexion as he stared out. “Holy shit, they’ve cornered Kudo! It’s that silver bastard that got us as well! Fuck it, give me a sword or a pipe or _somethin_ ’, I owe that bastard a coupla lumps—”

Kazuha was running up the stairs, trying to see what was happening, when Heiji’s rant suddenly cut off as he stared out the window.

“Heiji, what’s—” Kazuha began, seeing the men in black turned, and stared as they backed behind the car, the man in sunglasses firing at something out of sight as the man with the long silver hair flexed his left hand, blood dripping from it as his gun lay on the ground.

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“Gin,” Shinichi said, keeping his voice steady. He recognized the man from his flashback nightmares, the cold green eyes now trained on him identical to those that had haunted his earlier recollections. “How’d you find me?”

“I’ve had my suspicions that you might be alive for a while,” Gin said. “Then, when investigating just who has been causing us _so_ much trouble in the police, I found a number of files apparently from a Kudo Yuusaku. I decided we had a few things to talk about, but I think most of all I should talk about luck… specifically, mine in finding you here. What were the chances, eh?”

Shinichi shifted slightly, trying to hide Ran from view. Bad enough that she was a witness to this… he had every intention of getting her out of her alive, but little good that was if they saw her face. “Going to finish the job, Gin?”

“Oh, yes,” Gin said. “But first, the question game, and I have little time and patience for bullshit. Where is Sherry?”

“Who?” Shinichi asked. Gin shot him in the ankle. He slumped, Ran shrieking again and wrapping her arms under his shoulders to support him.

“I said I had no time for bullshit,” Gin said coldly. “Sherry was the one who confirmed you dead, despite your body never being found, and lo and behold a few months later she escapes from our lab—something she could not have done alone—and some unseen figure protects her at the Haido hotel. If you insult my intelligence again....” he shifted the barrel of his gun. “Your girlfriend there will be the next one to catch a bullet. Now where’s Sherry?”

Ran tensed, but Shinichi shifted protectively in front of her, breathing heavily from a combination of the pain and the heat. _Dammit... either they’re going to kill us now, or they’re going to see me change... and if they do... they’ll be able to find Haibara... What do I do?_

He gasped in pain as the first of the contractions struck his heart.

Gin hissed in pain as somebody shot his gun out of his hand.

“Jodie-sensei!”


	76. Speak Of The Devil

“What happened?” Yuusaku asked, walking into the first division main office. “It sounded rather urgent when you called, Sato-keiji.”

“I was robbed,” Sato said, looking stuck between anger and fear. “Guy with long silver hair and a black car. He got away, but...”

“Are you all right?” Yuusaku asked, concerned.

“ _I’m_ not the one healing from a broken arm,” she said with a brief flash of a triumphant smirk. “But more importantly, he got into my computer. I had copies of some of the files that Hakuba-kun had sent me... including computerized copies of the files you gave him. They have your name on them. If he saw them...”

“Oh, Kami,” Yuusaku muttered. _If they find out that I’m involved... they might have questions about Shinichi... surely they’ll realize that I’m involved because of him..._ then he realized. “If they did see my name, it won’t exactly be hard for them to find where I live,” he said, shooting to his feet. “They searched our house when Shinichi vanished. If they come back... Yukiko’s still there, and so’s...” _Shinichi and Kaito..._

“Then let’s move now,” Megure growled, instantly standing and heading for the door.

“I got a new car on insurance payments,” Sato said, following at a quick march. “I hope you don’t mind unorthodox driving...”

“Have you met my wife?” Yuusaku asked, pulling out his mobile as they ran to the car park. “Yukiko... where are you?”

“ _Yuusaku... they’re here!_ ”

“ _What?!_ ” Yuusaku yelped. “You mean the Black Organization?” Megure and Sato looked around at him.

“ _Yes..._ ”

“A black car? Two men?” _The man Sato described was Gin, if it’s him and Vodka..._

“ _I think so, I can’t see, oh Kami... but what if he’s—?_ ”

“Listen, lock the doors and windows, get hidden, help is coming…” Yuusaku said urgently, yanking open the passenger side door of Sato’s car.

“ _No, wait... they’re not coming in... they’ve just stopped in the street..._ ”

“Call over to Agasa-Hakase’s, warn him,” Yuusaku said, slamming the door behind him and fumbling with his seatbelt. “Then try and call Shinichi, if they see him... We’re coming...”

“ _All right, be careful..._ ”

“Floor it,” Yuusaku demanded. Sato nodded, making the car shriek as she reversed at speed and spun the car around to head for the exit. “They’re already there...”

 _I just hope_ he’s _there..._

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Shinichi dove down, pushing Ran down as Vodka fired back at Jodie. She rolled to avoid it, firing at him and Gin, forcing them to shelter behind the car.

“Keep your head down,” Shinichi whispered. “Try and get to the house, not Agasa-Hakase’s...” He grunted in pain as another spasm hit him.

Jodie had the advantage of surprise over Gin and Vodka, and was a demonstrably sharper shot than Vodka, but they outnumbered her—and she had no cover. She winced as a shot scraped past her left arm.

Shinichi realized too late that Gin had another gun. He fired at Jodie, hitting her in the knee. She dropped with a shriek of pain as the two men in black stepped out from behind the car to finish her.

_Bang_

This shot wasn’t silenced. It cracked into Gin’s hand, knocking the next gun away, and the next shots hit his body. Shots began raining down on Vodka too, but they weren’t from Jodie.

Someone was sniping at them from an unknown source.

“Aniki!” Vodka cried, pushing his injured associate into the car and trying to source the shots. Unable to, he jumped into the car, made a screeching handbrake turn, and began to bear down on Shinichi, Ran and Jodie.

“Ran, run!” Shinichi yelled, trying to push himself to his feet.

“No way!” she cried angrily, trying to pull him with her.

Another car suddenly screeched down the other end of the street, zooming around the injured Jodie and heading straight for the Porsche in deadly chicken. It was a large, sturdy 4x4, and the Porshce swerved before they hit, forced to go around its injured targets. The 4x4 made a similar hairpin turn, briefly giving Shinichi a look at the driver.

“ **Get after them, Andre!** ” Jodie cried. The FBI agent nodded and chased after the Porsche, which was now in full flight in response to the bigger FBI car and the approaching sirens.

Ran supported Shinichi as he tried to pull himself up against the wall. The sirens peaked, and they transpired to be from a red car that came shooting along the street. It halted by the house and Yuusaku, Megure and Sato climbed out.

“Shinichi!” Yuusaku yelled, running over to help Ran support his son as Aoko and Yukiko appeared out of the Kudo house, heading for Jodie.

“What on earth happened?” Megure said in shock.

“Ran into ‘em... they were already coming for the house...” Shinichi grunted, clutching his chest. “Andre... FBI... drove ‘em away...”

“He’s running out of time!” Ran cried desperately. “We have to get him inside...”

“Are they gone?” Agasa said, hurrying out of his house to help Yuusaku lift Shinichi as Jodie limped inside the Kudo house, leaning on Megure and Sato. Yukiko had disappeared into the house, presumably searching out her hospital-sized first aid kit, as had Aoko. “Ai-kun! They’ve left! How’s Hattori-kun?”

“Smokin’,” Kazuha’s voice faintly called from Agasa’s doorway. It might have been louder, but to Shinichi everything was fading out, his vision blacking out more and more with each wave of pain. He didn’t think about who might see, only that he couldn’t resist the pain, the fire, the darkness...

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“What the hell is actually going on?” Jodie asked, limping into the house, following Ran, who was following Yuusaku and Agasa, carrying Shinichi. For some reason, the guy was clutching at his heart, even though his wounds were in his right shoulder and ankle. He was sweating heavily— _wait, is that_ steam _coming off of him? What the hell kind of fever does he_ have?

“Let’s get him up to his room,” Yuusaku muttered.

“Jodie-sensei, we’ll patch you up in mine and Yuusaku’s room...” Yukiko said, looking around at a pale-faced teenage brunette. “Aoko-chan, can you get me another roll of bandages?” The girl nodded and fled.

“Shinichi!” Ran cried as he slumped completely at the top of the stairs, appearing to have passed out. Yuusaku and Agasa started almost running him to his room.

“Hey, what’s wrong with him?” Megure asked with concern.

“Is he all right?” Sato asked. “Is it his bullet wounds?”

“He will be in a minute,” Yuusaku muttered. “Just hold on... Shinichi!”

Shinichi suddenly screamed in agony, slipping entirely out of Yuusaku and Agasa’s grip and collapsing on the floor in a cloud of steam.

“Kudo-kun!” Sato cried, letting go of Jodie, who leaned against Megure as Sato and Ran both knelt next to the writhing shape in the steam.

“What the hell is going on?” Jodie asked, bewildered, as the screaming grew higher, the shape changing...

“Might as well just film it and put it on TV at this stage,” Yuusaku sighed, putting a hand to his face.

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“Owww....”

“How’re ya feelin’, Heiji?” Kazuha asked worriedly.

“Like I jus’ went through an incinerator...” Heiji rubbed his head, staring at the overlong sleeves that now draped over his hands. “Wha’ happened? Kudo get out all right?”

“A couple of FBI members drove away the guys in black,” Kazuha explained. “Kudo-kun’s got a couple injuries, but nothin’ major, I think. So’s one a’ the FBI folk, who followed him inta his house ta get treatment, and, um... saw ‘im change.”

“What th’ hell?!” Heiji groaned. “Jeez, an’ he used ta get on at _me_ fer bein’ a security leak! Did the bastards in black see ‘im?”

“No,” Kazuha said with a relieved sigh. “But they’re kinda movin’ inta the minority...”

“That was _way_ too close,” Ai muttered. She was sitting across from Heiji and Kazuha, clutching a stack of child’s clothes which she offered to Heiji. “And they know the Kudo house now. They’ll be back.”

“You get changed, an’ we’ll go an’ see what’s happenin’,” Kazuha said, pushing Heiji towards the bathroom.

What was happening was that the Kudo house was turning into an infirmary. Dr Ariade was giving Jodie a lift home, having come to patch her up and apparently having not seen Kudo at all (after all, he was under the impression that Kuroba was Kudo); Kuroba was hiding and healing in a guest room; Aoko was also leaving with Ariade for a lift to the hospital where her father was; and the wounded and shrunken Kudo was sleeping in his room, watched over by Ran, while his parents tried to explain to Megure and Sato what, precisely, the hell was going on.

“The important thing is that they know he’s here,” Yuusaku explained, “but we know that they know, and more importantly they know that we know that they know. You can continue the Escheresque nightmare as long as you like. The end result is that the FBI are planning to watch this place from now on, because we’re in danger and frankly we can’t really move Shinichi or send him to hospital, for multiple reasons. We just need to ask you to keep quiet about what’s happened here...”

“I can’t believe it,” Sato muttered, shaking her head. “Actually, I _can_ , which might be even worse… that explains _so_ much about that boy…”

“Believe it or not, ‘Conan’ acts more childish than I remember Shinichi ever behaving,” Yuusaku commented.

“We’re still leaning on Yamashiro to crack,” Megure said. “But even if he doesn’t, we have a lot of data from his PC and we’re preparing co-ordinated strikes with the FBI. I have the authority to issue search and seizure warrants, and I’m applying them to every address we’ve got. They know that we’re down to the wire here. But they’re liable to be back...”

“Which is what our friends at the FBI are here for,” Yuusaku said.

“Hey,” Kazuha said, leaning into the living room.

“We heard th’ sound of shit hittin’ the fan, so we thought we’d come see what’s up,” Heiji added. Everybody stared at the child.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m out of here,” Sato declared, standing up and shaking her head. “Some of us have shit-mopping and fan-cleaning duties to attend to...”

“But of course,” Yuusaku said courteously. “Don’t let us detain you.”

“You will keep quiet about this, of course?” Yukiko asked. “I mean, we’re having to explain this whole mess on an almost daily basis now, not least to Shin-chan, but we don’t really want to broadcast it, you know?”

“Lips are sealed, Yukiko-kun,” Megure promised. “We’ll see you, then...”

“Good luck,” Yuusaku called. Kazuha started heading upstairs, looking for Ran, followed by Heiji and the still-pale Ai, who wasn’t happy about going anywhere alone.

As they reached the top of the stairs, they were surprised to see Agasa-Hakase coming down from the attic.

“Hakase, what’s wrong?” Ai asked.

“The sniper,” Agasa said with a frown. “The one that Jodie-sensei mentioned as shooting at Gin and Vodka, possibly the same one that was shooting at the Kid heist the other night... they were shooting from the Kudo’s attic.”

“Say what?!” Heiji said in shock.

“There are fresh traces of gunpowder residue and the vantage point matches the angle from which the bullets were fired,” Agasa explained. “Plus, there are footprints on the roof. Whoever it was climbed down and left via the outside wall, possibly while everyone was busy either convalescing or exchanging stories. You think I haven’t learned anything from living by the Kudos all these years?” he added as they continued to stare at him. “Whatever the case, I thought I ought to let Yuusaku-kun know.”

“Good shout,” Heiji muttered as Ai paled further.

“Ya look scared, Ai-chan,” Kazuha said with concern.

“I... am,” she whispered. “Absolutely terrified. But...” she sighed heavily. “I’m so... sick of running...”

“Yer really brave, ya know that?” Heiji commented. “I mean, yer evidently scared shitless a’ these guys. But ya still tough it out here. Ya don’t just vanish off ta America or wherever. That’s real brave, an’ I think Kudo appreciates it, ya know?”

“He... does?” Ai said uncertainly.

“Yeah,” Heiji said with a shrug. “He told me when ya rejected th’ Witness Protection Program. He said he knows it was hard fer ya ta turn it down an’ stay here, but he also knows why ya did it, an’ I think he’s... dunno, proud? Glad fer ya? I guess ‘e means it’s good not ta hafta live in fear, or if ya have fear, at least ta be able ta stand up ta it. That way, it ain’t gonna crush ya.”

“Yeah...” Ai said with a rare, gentle smile. “But the only reason I can do that is because... well, I couldn’t do it alone.”

“Nobody can do much of anythin’ alone,” Kazuha said with a shrug. “It’s all right ta depend on friends, ya know? It’s what we’re for, after all...”

“Thanks,” Ai said quietly.

Kudo was already sitting up. His arm was in a sling, but otherwise he looked peppy enough.

“I need to go through and talk to Kuroba,” he was insisting, as Ran tried to get him to lie down again. “My ankle’s fine, it’s just a flesh wound, but we have to find out what he did with that diamond, we have to check it out, and we really have to find and destroy the Pandora, we are very much down to the wire here...”

“I think yer oyaji said he was goin’ lookin’ fer it tomorrow,” Heiji said, pulling himself up to sit on the end of Kudo’s bed, legs dangling over the edge. “A pal of Kuroba’s hidin’ it or somethin’. Ya oughta be safe here fer a while. There’s police an’ FBI keepin’ close watch on th’ street in case the Syndicate comes back.”

“I’m glad you’re all all right,” Ran said, giving Ai a hug. “They didn’t see you?”

“Nah,” Heiji said, shaking his head. “All good on the shrinkin’ front. Problem is, They’ll probably wanna kill anybody in this house anyways, just fer bein’ here…”

“We can handle that,” Kudo said, slipping from Ran’s grasp. He winced slightly when landing on his ankle, but was otherwise fine to limp off to hold war council with the teen thief.


	77. Information Highway

“Wow...” Shinichi said, leaning against the foot of Kaito’s bed. “What a load of bull.”

“My feelings precisely, which gives unfortunate weight to the theory,” Kaito said, with a shrug and a wince.

They had been talking for a few hours. Ran had eventually gone home, and Kazuha and Heiji had had their own discussions to hold, while Ai had fled to her lab at the earliest possible juncture, leaving Kaito and Shinichi alone to talk. Kaito had eventually switched on his father’s tape, allowing Shinichi to hear of the supposed “prophecy”.

“But Tou-san was right,” Shinichi sighed. “Whether or not we believe in it isn’t the problem. All our problems have come from the fact that _They_ believe it. The end result being that They have inadvertently created what They fear.”

“In any case, once we’ve found and destroyed the Pandora, we’ll have struck Them an unrecoverable blow,” Kaito said. “They’ll hardly vanish into thin air, but Their primary objective will be gone. That all I want, really.” He clenched his fists, scowling. “I find it hard to believe that any of Them have the capacity to love, but I just want to take away from Them something that can’t be replaced. I want to do to Them what They did to me. That’s all.”

“I know,” Shinichi sighed. “I just want my life back, already... I want my memories and I want my body and I want my _life..._ ”

“Well, if what that Haibara girl was talking about is true, one is within reach,” Kaito said with a reassuring grin, “and the other... that’s up to you, isn’t it?”

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“It’s been two days,” Jodie said, leaning back on the sofa with her leg in its cast propped up on cushions. “We’ve seen a number of Syndicate plants watching the street, but they haven’t approached. They must have noticed that the FBI are protecting you. It might be safe to leave with FBI escorts...”

“ _No, they’ll still follow, won’t they?_ ” Yuusaku responded. _“I don’t want to lead them to anybody... I have an idea, though. By the way, what about the Mori family? Did they see Ran’s face?_ ”

“We don’t think so,” Jodie said with a frown, keeping the house phone up to her ear with one hand as she checked her messages on her mobile with the other. “I don’t think anyone’s come to the agency...”

“ _That means nothing... after all, their best assassin is badly injured and most of their people are dealing with the effects of the police purges. Why do you think attempts on the lives of the police officers have stopped? They’re pulling back for now, but..._ ”

“They’ll have something else up their sleeve,” Jodie sighed. “They always do.”

“ _How are you doing, anyway?_ ”

“Still on crutches,” she snorted, glaring at the aids sitting on the coffee table. “Bastard smashed my kneecap... Nakamori Ginzo’s getting out today, though. How’s your son and...?”

“ _Shinichi’s ankle is no problem, just a scrape, no broken bones. Luckily, the shoulder shot was just a flesh wound, and it doesn’t seem to be bothering him. He already keeps trying to take the sling off since he’s having a hard time doing everything left-handed. Kaito-kun’s ribs are healing well, I think... he’s staying in bed, on the doctor’s orders, but he insists that he feels fine. On all other fronts... frankly, we have nothing left but waiting._ ”

“Waiting for _what_? That’s the question.”

“ _I have ideas..._ ”

Jodie smiled. _Like father, like son…_ “Don’t you always?”

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Ninzaburo sighed happily as he sipped his drink. Finally being _allowed_ to drink was a luxury, though he and Sumiko had made a little show about demanding that the barman taste-test the drinks himself first, as a joke.

She wanted to know if he’d heard how Conan was getting on—well, she _was_ his teacher, after all. Ninzaburo gave her the official line, which was that the boy was in America with his parents. Sato had informed him of the truth, however; Conan and his family were hiding under FBI protection. Ninzaburo felt that perhaps there was more to the story, but for now, he didn’t ask. He felt a little bad about lying to Sumiko, but he didn’t want her to worry. She got so absorbed in detective novels and conspiracy theories, after all...

He glanced around the quiet little bar. Sato had insisted that there was a way that he could help out: he just had to take the first opportunity to go drinking at the Blue Parrot. Sato herself and Takagi couldn’t go because they were probably being tracked. Ninzaburo just had to get something from the barman, and ensure that it reached 2-21 Beika subtly. He glanced at Sumiko again as he waved the barman over to pay.

“Three thousand yen for the drinks,” the old man said amiably.

“Good price,” Sumiko said approvingly.

“I’ll pay,” Ninzaburo insisted, holding up a note—and the card that Nakamori Ginzo had slipped to him. The old man took both without a word, but Ninzaburo thought he saw a smile quirk under the thick grey moustache as he saw the odd joker.

“Thank you very much,” the barman said politely, swinging a bag around the bar and dropping it by Ninzaburo’s foot in one smooth, deft motion, moving away to put the money in the till without a word.

Ninzaburo picked up the bag without a word as he and Sumiko made for the train station, leaving behind the identical—and empty—bag that he’d come in with.

“It was nice seeing you,” she said, smiling prettily. “We should do it again sometime, you know? It’s nice to socialize with someone taller than me.”

“I’m sure,” Ninzaburo laughed. “Oh, and by the way...” he proffered the bag. “There was a case a while back, and we had to impound this as evidence... but can you see that it gets returned to Haibara Ai? She’s in your class too, right?”

“She hasn’t been in the past couple of days,” Sumiko said worriedly. “Flu, Agasa-Hakase said. But if she’s not in tomorrow, I’ll give it to her friends to pass on.”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Ninzaburo said with a friendly smile.

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Ran stared idly out of her window, tapping her pen on her completed homework. She was actually watching a figure sitting on the roof opposite. She couldn’t tell if it was FBI or Syndicate. In either case, better to make it look like she wasn’t watching them.

Faint sounds of her parents arguing again drifted through, but for once she didn’t mind. The arguing had taken on a mundanity, generally ending in laughter from either party or Ran, which would become contagious to the rest. Not one argument had featured the harsh words, the cruel insults and attacks, the sheer hatred of the arguments that had shattered their marriage twelve years ago. Stupid arguments—and they always were—were just that, not preludes to house-rocking lung-rippers which only ended in tears and painful silences and, eventually, a taxi engine. The thought made Ran smile. She had her mother back, and she had Shinichi back. Did it get much better than that?

A few minutes later, she answered that question. It got better than that when a bomb wasn’t planted in the café beneath your house, blowing the café—and your floor—to shreds.

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Eri’s next remark was cut off by a scream as an explosion sounded beneath them. Kogoro yelled, grabbing Eri close to steady her as the floor began to collapse beneath them. He threw her over his shoulder, hoping she’d make it through the door to their daughter’s room. Ran’s room, not being directly over the main café—which was surely where they’d subtly planted the bomb, the bastards—hadn’t collapsed but was tipping precariously towards the huge and rapidly collapsing hole in the living room floor. Kogoro saw Ran scramble out of her room and grab her mother, dragging her towards relatively stable ground, as he fell into the hole.

“Anata!” Eri grabbed his outstretched hand, holding them in a precarious human chain, Ran with her legs hooked across the doorway, holding Eri’s arm with both hands while Eri held Kogoro’s arm in an iron grip, his feet dangling. Gritting his teeth, Kogoro reached up and grabbed the remaining floor, trying to grab something that wouldn’t collapse. Ran panted in exertion as she leaned back, pulling the weight of both of her parents. Getting a grip, Kogoro hauled himself up, trying to take his weight off of his wife and daughter.

“Go!” he yelled, ordering the pair to climb to their feet and run as his movements caused more of the floor to collapse. He himself scrambled up on all fours, trying to outrun the collapsing floor and reach Ran’s window, which had a fire escape under it which would lead to the next roof. The windowframe hit his armpits just as the last of the floor fell away.

It was pitch black outside, past midnight, the bomber having clearly underestimated their capacity for paranoia and insomnia. The explosion itself hadn’t been particularly powerful, as the building was still shakily standing, but something bigger probably would have been too difficult to secrete into the cafe and hide from the sharp-eyed Asuza. Part of Kogoro was trying to figure out where and when exactly the bomb had been hidden, but the rest was occupied with getting away from the shaking building. The floors had all been blown out, as had most of the ground-floor walls. The only thing stopping the building from collapsing entirely was the support of the buildings on either side, and even they could only prop it up for so long.

Kogoro dropped out of the window and onto the fire escape after Ran and Eri just as the whole building _jerked_ , the walls collapsing towards the street. The fire escape balcony was already at an angle of forty-five degrees, the three of them running with one foot on the wire frame and one on the wall as they made for the next roof. Ran leapt first, her karate instincts reminding her to roll as she landed. Eri followed suit. Kogoro, running almost solely on the wall as it tipped, leapt for the roof just as the wall fell away, landing a little harder than the lighter women but still making it alive.

“Oh, Kami—are you both all right?” Eri panted, staring at the still-collapsing building, neighbours staring out of their windows and gathering in the street in horror. “Anata, you’re bleeding!”

Kogoro glanced at the gash on his leg, probably sustained when the floor collapsed. “It’s nothing,” he insisted. “Are you all right, Eri? Ran?”

“I-I’m fine,” Ran said shakily. “What _hap—”_

Something _pinged_ off the concrete an inch away from her. Kogoro’s instincts got him to pull both Ran and Eri to their feet, running for cover as more shots hit the concrete, before stopping abruptly. Kogoro turned to the angle of fire, seeing a rifle drop from a limp dark shape leaning over a rooftop opposite.

“So it was a sniper,” Ran gasped, staring at the roof. Kogoro ran down the stairs of the building next door, ignoring questions and his burning leg, and shouldered past the rubber-neckers in the street to try to reach the rooftop of the opposite building. By the time he’d reached the roof, however, whoever had killed the sniper was gone, and only the sniper’s body was left dangling over the edge, a single bullet in its head.

Sirens were sounding in the street as Kogoro returned, police cars, a fire engine and an ambulance all braking, police officers trying to control the crowd, firemen fighting small blazes in the ruin of the building, paramedics leading Ran and Eri to the ambulance.

“Otou-san!” Ran cried. “What happened?”

“There’s a dead sniper on that roof,” Kogoro said to the nearest cop. He joined Ran and Eri in the ambulance, paramedics fussing over his leg. “I think a bomb was planted in the cafe somehow. Something powerful, but in a small quantity... damn, the box of coffee delivered today, that must have been it!” he remembered. He struggled to remember the delivery man’s face, but he couldn’t come up with anything. He’d stood there and talked to Asuza about it… “They didn’t open it. Asuza-chan said they weren’t going to need it until tomorrow. Won’t need it at all, now...” He looked up at the rubble of his home. “The building was going to collapse on us, and if that failed the sniper was to finish the job. Only someone finished him first. Whoever it was is gone, though...”

“We’ll investigate, Mori-tantei,” one of the officers reassured him, one of the younger dibbles that he’d presumably come across at some homicide or another. “You’re just lucky to be alive. Looks like you have some kind of shadowy guardian angel.”

“Who, though?” Kogoro muttered, looking mainly at Ran, who was more in the loop than her parents.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, staring at her hands. “Closest I can think of is... he’s bedridden, but he’s kind of stupid like Shinichi so he might... but he never kills. He couldn’t even do it accidentally, he doesn’t carry real guns, and the sniper was shot, right?”

“One through the back of the head,” Kogoro confirmed.

“So...  can’t be FBI, they wouldn’t have hidden... I can’t think who would have...” she muttered. “But the other day...”

“You mean the day... you and Shinichi-kun...?” Eri said tremulously, referring fearfully to the day when her daughter had come home and just collapsed on her bed, muttering about gunfire and Shinichi being injured and men in black. Kogoro had been on the look-out for the past two—three, technically, now—days since, in case they had seen Ran’s face and came back for her, not even drinking in his need to keep vigilant...

And then it had all very literally blown up in his face.

“Someone shot at the men in black,” Ran said. “A sniper. They found traces that he shot from _inside_ Shinichi’s house, but whoever it was vanished without a trace... they say someone was sniping at the Syndicate on the last Kid heist, too. Nobody knows who it is yet, but...”

“A rogue agent,” Kogoro muttered. “ _Somebody_ must know who they are, though, since whoever they are they know where to be...”

“Hey, what hospital are we going to?” Eri asked the driver.

“Beika General,” he said.

“At the risk of making this sound like a taxi service, can we go to the Haido Central?” she asked. “There’s a doctor we know there, he’s just moving out, you know, might need to find a new place to stay, obviously, I figure we’ll be able to get it off him cheaper...”

“No problem,” the driver said.

“What?” Ran said, staring at her mother.

“Okay, that was a line,” she muttered, “but you know who is at the Haido Central?”

Kogoro grinned. “FBI.”

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“Just when I worried that I was going to get lonely without Shiratori,” Wataru joked, rubbing his head with his good arm as the Mori family sat around his bed.

“The leg’s not as bad as it looked,” Kogoro said, kicking the end of Wataru’s bed pointedly. “Eri and Ran are fine, we just didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go for now... well, there’s Eri’s place...

“It’s already got more bugs that Butterfly World,” Jodie said, swinging in on her crutches, left knee thickly wrapped up. “They predicted that you’d run there next, I guess. We already have a few people on this place on guard duty, and most of them are quietly watching the addresses we’ve got so far. Unfortunately, most of them seem to be deserted and a good few have gone insurance fire. They’ll have cut loose any liabilities. The rest are watching 2-21 and 2-22 Beika. Ravens have been circling it but we’ve made the FBI presence not entirely subtle, so they know they can’t just strike... when they do go it, it’ll be all guns blazing, though.”

“Oh, Kami,” Ran gasped. “Shinichi...”

“They’re safe for now,” Jodie insisted. “In fact, given the fact that most of the residents of that street are away for their Christmas holidays.... only one household still home at the end of the road... well, we’ve basically fortified the street. It might actually be one of the safer places to be, if you’re one of Their targets. We want to move them out ASAP, however, probably to America. Well out of Their reach. That’s what we want to do with you, too.”

“I’m going when Shinichi and his family do,” Ran insisted. “Please... can’t we go there, first? With them? We’ll all head out together...”

“I’d like to say something derogatory about eggs and baskets,” Jodie said dryly, “but at the moment that street is a hell of a basket, so it might be the safest locale to keep you for now. But we move out soon and let the police and FBI finish this. We need to tell that to whatever vigilante’s been sniping at the Syndicate and killed two of their snipers last night...”

“Hold on,” Kogoro said. “ _Two_?”


	78. The Basket

“Just stupid kids,” Chianti muttered irritably, staring at the computer screen. “Visiting a friend of theirs or something, I guess... no sign of anything or any _one_ going in or out, though.”

“The Mori family are there now, though,” Kir commented. “So many of them are in one place now. We could just bomb it…”

“Anokata has discarded that option,” Gin said coldly. “If the Kaitou Kid is there, he may well have the jewel there somewhere... and we cannot risk destroying it.”

Kir so dearly wanted to ask why, what this jewel was, but she didn’t dare. In the Syndicate, if you needed to know something, you were told it. Asking stupid questions only made you suspicious.

And despite the fact that they’d lost _another_ sniper last night—and Bourbon to boot, which was a blow—Gin still would not hesitate to gun down anyone he regarded as untrustworthy.

She sighed and returned to monitoring the three children’s conversation as they left.

“ _... cousin’s really tan, though, isn’t he? They don’t look alike at all..._ ”

“ _My cousin and me don’t look alike..._ ”

“ _My cousin and_ I, _Genta-kun..._ ”

Gin just watched the transcripts unreadably.

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“I thought as much,” Ai said, unwrapping the pullover in the bag to find the large diamond nestled in it. “You were trying to get the jewel in without the Organization knowing?”

“Yes,” Yuusaku said, taking the diamond and turning it, examining it, “although they’ll probably assume that it’s in here anyway. We’ll check it tonight.”

“So when are... oneechan and her parents getting here?” Ai asked. She was still tentative about calling Ran “oneechan”, but it was oddly comforting at the same time. She’d nearly had a heart attack when she’d heard that the Mori Detective Agency had been blown up.

“In a short while,” Yuusaku said. “I’ll be going out to meet them... I’ll take this next door in the process. In fact...” He glanced out of the window, to where a police car was pulling up in front of the Kudo home. “They’ll be staying here for a couple of days. They’re planning to move us all out to a safer locale in America, you see. You too, Ai-kun. I believe you have the option of staying or leaving, Hakase…”

“I think I’d prefer to go with Ai-kun,” Agasa said, standing to follow them out to greet the car that was pulling up outside. Ai pulled on a baseball cap, tucking her hair into it and pulling it low over her face as they went out, but clutched Agasa’s hand gratefully.

“Glad to see you’re all safe,” Yuusaku called as the trio in the car got out. “Close one, eh?”

“We need to tell you something,” Ran said, very pale. “Quickly!” She hurried into the Kudo house. Yuusaku and Kogoro exchanged looks, Yuusaku’s of confusion, Kogoro simply stern.

“Oneechan?” Ai asked, following her in.

“Ai-chan...” Ran suddenly knelt down and hugged her. “To think... there’s been one of _Them_ so near you...”

“What do you mean?” Agasa asked.

“We’ll tell you inside,” Ran insisted.

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Kaito was tapping the headrest of the bed impatiently. He was not a boy who took well to boredom at the best of times, and being bedridden for days was not helping. Kudo and his father would no longer walk past his room unless absolutely necessary for fear of having his hair dyed strange colours—or worse.

Yukiko had been by a few times, though, to share stories about his father when she’d known him. She’d been halfway through a story about him teaching his students how to cross-dress when a dozen frightened, angry people had flooded the room.

“So what’s the freak-out about?” Kaito asked as Kudo, Hattori and Ai all popped up onto the foot of his bed. Agasa, Kazuha, Yukiko and Yuusaku were all gathered in the room, along with the Mori family, probably on the basis that Kaito couldn’t move yet and whatever it was probably concerned him.

“First things first—is this the real one? Please say yes,” Yuusaku said, drawing the diamond from a paper bag and tossing it to Kaito. He examined it closely.

“Yep, that’s the one,” Kaito confirmed. “We’ll check it out tonight.” He promptly vanished the jewel, a move he was particularly proud of pulling off without sleeves. “So what’s item B?”

“I’m not certain,” Yuusaku said. “Ran-kun...”

“It’s about the snipers who tried to take us out when we got out of the agency alive,” she said. “The police removed two bodies...”

“Somebody killed them?” Kudo said in surprise.

“Yeah,” Kogoro said, “but the thing is, when I first went up there, when the bullets stopped, there was only one body. But the police found two up there when they went a few minutes later.”

“Are ya sure ya didn’t overlook one?” Hattori said suspiciously.

“I wondered if I did, but an autopsy confirmed that the second one’s actually been dead a couple of months,” Kogoro said. “His body was preserved somehow—it was absolutely freezing, so they think it was stolen from a morgue or something—and then dumped there to look like a sniper.”

“Odd lengths to go to,” Yuusaku mused.

“The thing is, the older body...” Ran said with a gulp, “was Okiya-san.”

Agasa, Ai and Yukiko all suddenly paled. Hattori and Kazuha stared blankly, waiting for some clarification of who “Okiya” was, and Kaito and Kudo exchanged identical looks before going, “Who?”

“Okiya Subaru,” Agasa explained. “A student who was living nearby until his flat burned down... you’d let him stay here, Shinichi, until it was rebuilt. He left to see relatives at New Year and hasn’t been back since...”

“That’s the thing though,” Ran said tremulously. “The autopsy suggested that he’d been dead about three months.”

“So just _who_ has been living here for two months?” Ai said faintly.

“From the sounds of it, whoever killed and replaced the real Okiya-san,” Eri guessed. “Probably a Syndicate member... they had no more need to pretend to be Okiya-san, for whatever reason, so they dumped his body with the sniper, so we’d think he was the second sniper.”

“But there _was_ no second sniper,” Kogoro snapped. “So why would they...?”

“Unless the second sniper was the one that killed the first,” Yuusaku said quietly. “If the Syndicate had dispatched two snipers, if the second killed the first and fled, if they left the body so that it would seem that two snipers were killed...”

“We’re still without reason or motive for any of this,” Eri pointed out.

“We’ll find out when we arrest the bastards,” Kaito said. “The FBI and police are preparing to strike, right?”

“Within the week, I believe,” Yuusaku confirmed. “Although we’re all supposed to be well out of here by then.”

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Jodie examined the body curiously. It showed definite signs of being kept in a proper morgue, but why...?

She touched one of the blond locks. It was darker at the end. _Black hair dye...?_

Her mobile rang. “Moshi moshi?” she said, picking up.

“ _Jodie! It’s Andre. Listen, the department’s decided that we’ll move them commercially, in disguise, since it’s just too risky to move them all on the one private plane, it’ll make them easier to track and if they can damage the one plane..._ ”

“Good plan,” Jodie said. “Nice to hear from you again, by the way. I was starting to wonder if you’d crashed or something...”

“ _Huh?_ ”

“Well, you never reported in after driving Gin and Vodka away the other day...”

“ _...what are you_ talking _about_?”

“Gin and Vodka, Andre,” Jodie said, starting to get irritated. “In Beika, three days ago. Remember?”

“ _Jodie, I haven’t been in Japan since last year. I’ve been running traces in America. I wasn’t in Japan three days ago, let alone in Beika..._ ”

“But...” Jodie felt her blood run cold. “But... how...? I saw you... how...”

“ _I don’t know. But it wasn’t me._ ”

Jodie hung up numbly. Whoever it was had nodded when she’d called Andre’s name; they weren’t just some passing driver who happened to look like Andre, and they had his driving skills too.  Of the only living people with those disguise skills, she knew, one was bedridden and had been hidden inside throughout the whole encounter, and the other had come running out of the Kudo house just as the 4x4 was turning the corner. It wasn’t them.

 _Who else could have those disguise skills?_ she thought. _It couldn’t be_ her... _why would_ she _help us? Anyway, she’s_ dead... _Kir_ saw _it... she’s..._

She tried not to think about the fact that no body was ever found.

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“Nothing...” Akako dropped the book with a sigh. She must have borrowed the entire libraries of every witch she knew, but... nothing.

“It really does seem to be a pure oral tradition...” Hakuba muttered. He’d been joining her in her library searches these days, intent on finding something on the Pandora or Amnesial.

“Do you ever plan to go home?” Akako said, glancing at the clock.

“I probably should,” Hakuba sighed. “Forgive me for imposing.”

“You don’t seem too comfortable with going home,” Akako said perceptively.

“It’s nothing,” Hakuba said. He caught her searching glare and sighed again. “It’s just... Mother’s taken over the house, and with Chichi-ue dead she’s deeply convinced that I need to start thinking about finding a good wife, since I’ll be graduating soon...”

“By ‘good wife’ she means...” Akako said, with unusual rancour.

“The daughter of some police chief, probably,” Hakuba muttered. “She’s even threatened me with an O-miai, God help me... When I was living with her in England, she was forever dragging me to her high-society do’s to meet rich young ladies. They were all very stiff and formal... pleasant enough, I suppose, but just so _cold_.I guess that was one of the reasons I came back here. Intent to catch Kuroba aside, there’s just so much less pressure, since Chichi-ue hardly ever noticed whether I was in the country or not. And I’m not sure I’m really interested in those doll-daughters that my mother’s friends like to dress up and parade at parties anyway.” He glanced over at Akako with a weak chuckle. “I mean, _you’re_ more real than most of those girls, and God only knows what you are...”

“God doesn’t want to know,” Akako joked lightly. “Well, if you intend to camp out in the library instead of returning to your mother’s grasp, at least try to sleep at some point. There are plenty of spare rooms.”

“That’s very gracious of you,” Hakuba said softly. “I’m just... I can’t handle Mother right now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Akako said. She turned to another book, catching her reflection in its mirrored cover.

 _You don’t know, Hakuba-kun,_ she thought, staring at herself, at her perfect, beautiful, frozen face. _I am not real. My magic... perhaps it is not so different from Kuroba-kun’s. I, too, am deceiving the world... including myself. And I enjoy it. Except..._

She glanced over at Hakuba, who was poring over an original copy of the _Malleus Maleficarum_. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, struggling through the old German. He was working so hard for his friends, to make the world safe for them...

But she could save him all that labour, all that worry. All it took was a single tear.

 _That’s all..._ she thought, crossing her arms over her chest, as if holding the thought in. _All... it could destroy me. If I explained that to him, what it would do, would he understand? To forget that pain..._

But Kudo Shinichi did not want to forget. Though much of what he had to remember frightened, confused and hurt him, he remembered. He was still fighting to remember, so he could return to those who loved him.

Perhaps that was why she hadn’t told anyone of what she could know, what she could remember. Because the second she said it aloud, she would know her answer. Making the decision real would decide it.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said softly, staring down unseeingly at the book.

“Koizumi-san?” Hakuba asked.

“I...” Akako shook her head. “It’s nothing. It’s my problem and I’ll deal with it somehow, I just... don’t know what to do about it.”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t do anything,” Hakuba said. “If you don’t have to do anything yet... don’t. Perhaps a time will come when you must, but hopefully, by then... you’ll know what you have to do.”

“Yes...” Akako said distantly. _What I have to do... for the people who won’t let go... to become real..._

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“How are you feeling, Wataru?” Miwako asked, setting a bag of grapes down on his side table.

“I feel fine, really,” Wataru insisted. He still blushed cutely whenever she used his name. “It was only one clean shot and some scrapes, not too much blood loss, no serious damage... I’m doing fine, Sato—ah, Miwako.”

“Good,” she sighed. “I’m sorry, I can’t stay long. I’m staking out the Kudo’s for a few nights, starting the day after tomorrow...”

“Watching out in case the Syndicate comes for them?” Wataru asked. “I gather that there’re a lot of people that They want dead in there...”

“And out here,” Miwako said softly, squeezing his hand. Despite his insistences, he wouldn’t be leaving the hospital for a while, and she had been visiting him often, mostly discussing what was happening and how close they’d both come to getting killed in the past month. Forget being on Death’s door, they’d been playing ding-dong-dash with the bastard. “We’re guarding the Kudo’s the night of the strikes, but...”

“I know,” Wataru said with a wince, remembering Nakamori-keibu’s descriptions of the massacre at the Kid heist. “They’re not going to bother with subtlety any more. The only time They show their faces is when they know you won’t live to describe Them...”

“They haven’t got us yet,” Miwako said, leaning over to kiss him. He kissed her back, the fear from when the bullets had started to fly returning; the fear that by the time the fat lady’s solo started, there’d be blood all over the stage.


	79. Pandora

“Getting used to it yet?”Shinichi commented as Heiji strained for the fridge handle. Heiji just glared at his fellow chibi-tantei, who subsequently reached over his head and opened the door.

“It’s immensely satisfying being taller than you, for some reason,” Shinichi chuckled, reaching for the juice boxes.

“It ain’t funny,” Heiji grumbled, taking one. “Why _are_ ya taller’n me?”

“Because you shrunk all the way back to being physically six, like Haibara and I did… two years ago,” Shinichi explained. “We’ve grown two years. I think. This is all just stuff Haibara’s told me, remember...”

“’Cause you don’t, I know...” Heiji sniggered. “So what’s happenin’, anyway? I heard ya were talkin’ ta Jodie-sensei...”

“The FBI are going to get us all out of Japan soon,” Shinichi explained. “They found several Syndicate cams and bugs in the area, watching the house... since they were fairly easy to find, Jodie-sensei figured that there’ll be more that are better hidden. It’s not really safe here, despite the number of cops and FBI agents around. Tou-san asked for a little time, just to check out that diamond that Kuroba stole and return it. Given how it was hidden for five hundred years, there’s a good chance that it’s seen no moonlight for a long time...”

“So what if that’s it?” Heiji asked. “What if it’s really that Pandora thing?”

“Then...” Shinichi stared at his juice. “Dunno. We figure out some way to destroy it. Diamonds take no less than lasers or a volcano to destroy, but then again, there’s no telling what this thing’s actually made of...”

“Might as well start with a hammer, and work yer way up if that don’t do it,” Heiji laughed.

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“They don’t know about Hattori-kun,” Ran suggested. “You two could head back to Osaka safely enough...”

“The FBI insisted that Heiji leave with th’ rest of ya,” Kazuha said worriedly, “so I probably oughta go back ta Osaka, but...”

“Don’t want to leave him?” Ran teased.

Kazuha flushed. “Well... I mean, who knows what kinda trouble that ahou’ll get himself inta next... I mean, I’ll just be worryin’ myself ta death, I mean...” she trailed off, stuttering.

“You know, I never asked,” Ran said evilly, “The other day, when Shinichi and I were out... what did you and Hattori-kun get up to?”

Kazuha squeaked and went even pinker. “W-w-well...”

“Did you... take your own advice?” Ran pressed with a giggle.

“Umm... well... y-yeah?” Kazuha muttered.

Ran squealed and hugged her friend around the neck. “Told you it works like a charm!” she sang happily. “Now we just need to convince Aoko-chan to try it...”

“Try what?” Aoko asked, stepping into the room.

“Oh, Aoko-chan, when did you get here?” Ran asked in surprise.

“I asked Otou-san to drop me off on his way to the station,” Aoko said, leaning over the back of the couch where Ran and Kazuha were chatting. “He’s going to yell at the prisoners, I think. So try what?”

“Kuroba’s a thief, not a detective,” Kazuha pointed out.

“Yeah, but he and Shinichi are so alike...” Ran pointed out. “Unless...” she and Kazuha turned twin teasing eyes on Aoko.

“Why are you two staring at me like that?” Aoko asked, backing away nervously.

“We’re just kinda curious...” Kazuha asked.

“You and Kuroba-kun,” Ran asked. “You two... have you...?”

“Have ya kissed ‘im yet?” Kazuha asked bluntly.

It was Aoko’s turn to blush crimson. “Aaaah, we...” she began, then seemed to remember something, and blushed even deeper. Ran and Kazuha exchanged grins.

“That’s great!” Ran squealed. “I mean, you’ve been fussing over him like... well, Kazuha-chan over Hattori-kun...”

“Or Ran-chan over Kudo-kun...” Kazuha, blushing furiously, struck back.

“Doesn’t work,” Ran said, razzing Kazuha. “I’m madly in love and I know it!”

“Damn, there goes prime teasing material...” Kazuha sighed dejectedly. Aoko, cheeks still cooling, started to sneak away. “Sneaking away to yer boyfriend’s boudoir?” Kazuha sniggered. “C’mon, we ain’t really gotten a chance ta talk yet! We got nothin’ till nightfall, so let’s have girl talk!”

“Yeah, you can join Kazuha-chan floating down that river in Egypt...” Ran giggled.

“I’m not in denial,” Kazuha insisted, blushing. “It’s just... kinda new ta me...”

“I think this ain’t the kinda girl talk we wanna hear,” Heiji whispered in the kitchen. Shinichi nodded and quietly led him to the door leading to the hallway rather than the living room.

“Not when we could be bedevilin’ Kuroba, anyways...”

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 “Are you sure you’re all right, Kaito?” Aoko said as he collapsed heavily in the leather desk chair in the middle of the library.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve gotta come in here. It’s the only room where I’ll get any proper moonlight.” He glanced at her. “Why are you so red-faced anyway?”

“Ummm... it’s nothing!” Aoko squeaked, going very pink. Ran and Kazuha giggled worryingly. Kaito didn’t know what the giggles were about, but he suspected it had something to do with the chibi-tantei’s flight upstairs and refusal to return downstairs. They were downstairs now, sitting on top of the desk to reach the adult’s heights—though notably avoiding catching the girl’s eyes, making Kaito extremely curious and apprehensive as to what they’d been talking about. Still, he had more important things to worry about just now.

Kogoro came limping in with Eri, to Ran’s evident happiness, along with Agasa and Ai. Agasa helped Ai up onto the table to sit next to the two chibi-tantei. Yuusaku and Yukiko were already in the library, Yukiko clutching the bag that the diamond was hidden in.

“Here it is,” she said, handing the diamond to Kaito. He checked it over again, just to confirm that it was indeed the jewel that he’d stolen, then nodded to Yuusaku.

“Kill the lights,” Kaito asked. “We need moonlight to see if this is it for real.” Yuusaku nodded, switching off the lights.

The room was in darkness for a few moments, but as everyone’s night vision asserted itself—Kaito’s first, predictably, so he could pick out people blinking rapidly to accommodate themselves to the darkness—a shaft of moonlight became visible from the round skylight window at the top of the library.

With a sigh, half-expecting another disappointment, Kaito reached out, holding the jewel in the moonlight.

The second it touched the moonlight, there was a blinding flash that obscured everything. Kaito winced, wishing he had his sunglasses, as did everyone else, but through his closed eyelids he could see as the flash died to a soft glow...

A soft _red_ glow.

Kaito opened his eyes, staring at the diamond as he held it in the moonlight. The large diamond seemed to have faded away, making a tiny stone appear to float above Kaito’s hand. It was glowing a soft, ruby red.

“Wow...” he whispered, Poker Face forgotten as he stared at the jewel, jaw dropping. He wasn’t the only one—the room was suddenly filled with people doing impersonations of his feared fish.  It could probably terrify him if his mind wasn’t so utterly absorbed by what seemed to be levitating in his hand.

“Oh, Kami,” Ai said quietly, even her stern demeanour dropping. “It’s real... It’s really...”

“The Pandora,” Yuusaku confirmed softly. He alone seemed to have maintained an inscrutable expression, though his eyes glinted oddly.

Kaito turned the jewel in the light, reflecting the red light around the room like some bloody disco. Everyone was staring at it, awestruck, their faces occasionally appearing for a second in the darkness as light flashed over them.

“It’s beautiful,” Aoko said.

“It’s evil,” Kaito said harshly. “For this thing... They’ve killed so many people, including...” he bit off the sentence there, pushing back the bitter memories.

“But this means you can end it, right, Kai-chan?” Yukiko said, a tremble both hopeful and fearful in her voice. “You can destroy that thing, like Toichi-sensei wanted to...”

“How the hell _are_ ya gonna destroy it?” Kazuha asked. “I mean, gonna throw it into a volcano or somethin’?”

“What is this, the One Ring?” Kaito grumbled.

“Well, it ain’t easy ta destroy diamonds...” Kazuha muttered indignantly.

“If we could get use of one of the lasers that jewellery companies use...” Agasa muttered thoughtfully.

“We were talkin’ about this earlier, weren’t we, Kudo...” Hattori began, then trailed off. “Kudo? Oi, Kudo!”

Kaito looked down from the chibi-tantei on the desk. Hattori was shaking Kudo’s shoulders, but the boy was ignoring him, staring wide-eyed at the Pandora. He didn’t even seem to be breathing, his vision glazing over as the reflected light occasionally made his eyes look purple.

“Shinichi?” Yuusaku said, reaching for his son.

“Pandora,” he whispered. “That’s it. I...”

With a sigh, he collapsed off of the edge of the desk, caught in the nick of time by Yuusaku.

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_In that sudden red flash, his life seemed to flash before his eyes._

_Sights, sounds, smells, sensations,_ memories _passed before him, a deluge of remembrance, brought on by that cold red light. It pierced through his mind, setting him free._

_And he remembered. He remembered it all._

_He remembered his true childhood, playing with Ran, seeing a ghost, holding Ran as she sobbed into his shoulder._

_He remembered playing football and running home in the rain and getting into a fight._

_He remembered sakura petals and a beautiful song._

_He remembered a dead man in an airplane toilet and, less than a day later, a fallen angel and warring goddesses._

_Murder after murder, victim after victim, deduction after deduction._

_Tears after tears. Truth after truth._

_Falling in love and a rainbow in the fountain._

_Pain and fire and shrinking..._

_Returning to school and the Shonen Tantei-Dan and Hattori and the Kaitou Kid..._

_The FBI and the Shadow Syndicate and a false girl and gunfire..._

_A story and a strange drink..._

_A story about..._

_Eta and Ushi, the ones that destroyed the Pandora._

_They were..._

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“What the hell is that?” Kir said, staring at the camera feed. From the Kudo’s library, a shaft of red light was shining.

“Let me see,” Gin said sharply. Kir had never once seen Gin look happy, but somehow his eyes seemed to shine as he stared at the shaft of red light. He pulled out his cellphone, dialling a familiar tune. _Nanatsu No Ko._

“We found it,” he said, still with that same odd glint in his eye. “It’s definitely in the Kudo’s.”

He fell silent, listening to the voice of the Organization’s shadowy leader through the phone, before his lips slowly curved into a cold smile. “I see. Of course. When...? I can be ready to go within three or four days... I understand. It will be done.” He closed the phone with that same cold smirk.

“Kir,” he said. “When are the FBI and police planning to strike against us?”

“Four days,” Kir confirmed. “The night of the fourth.”

“That night, they’ll be spread out and spread thin,” Gin said softly. “Then... we will counterstrike. And we must not fail.”

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Shinichi opened his eyes to find everyone still crowded around him. He was still in the library, so he must not have been out long. The lights had been turned on and the Pandora was lying on the desk next to him.

“When’s the last time he got any normal sleep?” he heard Kuroba asking somebody.

“He’s awake,” Ai called. “Kudo-kun, are you all right?”

“I remember,” Shinichi said hoarsely. “I remember everything. My memories are back.”

 “Shinichi, do you really—?!” Ran gasped. The others crowded around, a dozen heads suddenly circling his line of vision.

“Yeah,” he said, sitting up. “It was... the Pandora that did it. It broke the lock, somehow. I remembered. When I was kidnapped and Vermouth... what she told me... it was about the Pandora.”

“Did she tell you how to destroy it?” Kaito demanded.

“I think... there were clues, but frankly I don’t think even she knows,” Shinichi said slowly. “But the story...”

“What did she tell you, Shinichi?” Yuusaku asked.

“She told me the story of how the Pandora was found,” Shinichi said, “and of the ones that found it... Eta and Ushi. What happened to them...” he trailed off, trying to comprehend the _size_ of the story that was sitting between his memories and confused recent events.

“What did happen to them?” Ran asked.

“They became immortal,” Shinichi said softly. “It began ten thousand years ago...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May I now refer you to the companion fic, “The First Woman In The World”, which tells Eta and Ushi’s story, and contains the true story of the Pandora. It will be necessary to know the story to understand the rest of the fic—and much of what came before.


	80. Shinjitsu Wa Itsumo Hitotsu

“Then...” Heiji said, breaking the long, long silence that had followed Shinichi’s story, “V=Eta... is very simply... Vermouth is Eta?”

“Yeah,” Shinichi said. “I was already half-into the delirium at that point, I couldn’t think of anything better. I just had to pray that she didn’t see it. I can’t really remember much after that… just delirium, and then, when I ran, she… helped me… watched over me… until I found you…” He trailed off faintly. Yukiko hugged him gently, tears etched on her cheeks and glinting slightly in the light.

“Ya really got somethin’ complicated in the sketch, though,” Heiji grumbled, indicating the sketch of a monocle surrounding a cracked jewel. Shinichi plucked it from his fingers and stared at him, his face creasing into a frown.

“It wasn’t actually... me,” he said slowly. “I sort of got shown what to draw by... the woman.”

“Woman? Vermouth... Eta?” Ran asked tentatively.

Shinichi shook his head. “I don’t know if it was because I was delirious or what, but I saw another woman, a Japanese one, hovering around Vermouth—Eta,” he corrected himself. “Like a ghost... she showed me what to draw.”

“If it was a ghost, it coulda been that Hanako woman,” Kazuha pointed out. “Ya said she was a psychic, and kinda close ta Eta...”

“Yeah,” Shinichi said with a frown. “She looked... kind of familiar... like I’ve seen her face before... and her name... Kurosawa... where have I heard that before?”

“Gin’s real name,” Ai said quietly. “Kurosawa Jin. His parents were both assassins, although I’d never heard what had happened to them before... nor that he’d had a sister.”

“That’s right,” Shinichi remembered. “In the guestbook on Bikunijima, his name was next to yours! That’s where I’d seen it...”

“Wait, _you_ went ta Bikunijima?!” Kazuha squealed, grinning at Ai. “Did ya win?”

“No, but it doesn’t matter since my investigation proved that it was only some stupid tourist festival,” Ai said coolly. “The old lady was a fake—Gin saw her putting the mask on. More importantly...”

“I know,” Shinichi said with a frown. “I could swear there was something about destroying the Pandora in this...”

“Gin’s sister would know, wouldn’t she?” Yukiko pointed out. “You mentioned that Shar—Eta said that her body was never found, that she might still be alive...”

“But that was thirty years ago,” Yuusaku said thoughtfully. “She’ll be older than us now.”

“And doubtlessly living under an assumed name,” Kaito sighed. “Calling for a Kurosawa-san from the rooftops is unlikely to net us much except bullets.”

“So ask the FBI to investigate,” Kogoro grumbled. “She’ll have had to acquire new documents at some point, unless she stayed in Japan, which seems unlikely given the danger she was in...”

“She might not even be alive anymore,” Eri reminded them. “A lot can happen in thirty years.”

“Yeah...” Aoko’s phone suddenly buzzed. “Oh... that’s Otou-san. I’ll ask him if there’s any information on the Kurosawa family... I’d better go.”

“Be careful,” Kaito said. She kissed him quickly, then, sticking her tongue out at Ran and Kazuha, scurried away.

“Ain’t that darlin’,” Heiji sniggered. Kaito pinged him on the ear before getting up to return to his room, grinning like the lunatic that he was. Yuusaku put his hand on Heiji’s shoulder.

“You’d better stay in here,” Yuusaku said. “Ran-kun’s family can hardly go to Eri-kun’s condo. If you and Kazuha-chan want to stay in the guest room, we’ll roll out a few futons... we’ll put Kaito-kun on Shinichi’s bed and Shinichi and Hattori-kun can bunk on the floor.”

“Good thought,” Shinichi agreed. “What about Occhan?”

“What _about_ me?” Kogoro growled.

“Weelll...” Yukiko giggled, “Are you sleeping on Shin-chan’s floor or in the girl’s room?”

Kogoro threw a quick glance at Eri that would be subtle if he wasn’t surrounded by detectives before saying, “do I _look_ like a girl?”

“Hardly,” Eri snorted.

“You two have a fun fight, we’ll go fetch futons,” Yuusaku chuckled as Kaito collapsed heavily on Shinichi’s bed.

“Warning: he snores like a motorway,” Shinichi muttered to Heiji.

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“What are you thinking, Aniki?” Vodka said, as Gin stared at the screen.

“Something those brats said was suspicious,” Gin said quietly. “If it’s...” he fell silent as he saw an old man and a child wearing a baseball cap appeared onscreen, walking from the Kudo’s to the lab next door. They were nearly in the gate when a gust of wind blew along the road, blowing away the girl’s cap...

...exposing her hair, her face...

There was a sudden shot, and the video feed cut out; somebody had found the camera and shot it. But before that...

“ _Sherry_ ,” he breathed. And at that moment, he knew where to find Sherry, just as he knew where to find Hattori Heiji and Kudo Shinichi; in a “strange dark-skinned boy” and an odd child at Mori Kogoro’s detective agency...

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“Ohayou,” Shinichi muttered, wandering into the kitchen. He’d ended up talking to Hattori and Kuroba for hours—filling them in on a few fine points of his regained knowledge, discussing the Syndicate, Pandora, and son on—and since Hattori seemed to operate on two hours’ sleep and Kuroba wasn’t leaving bed, Shinichi was one of the last ones down. It was only a _little_ bizarre to see his normally empty kitchen swarming with Ran’s parents taking turns at the coffee maker, Ran and Kazuha chatting over cereal, and his mother passing Hattori toast.

“Ohayou,” they variously chorused, Yukiko popping a couple more slices into the toaster at the sight of him.

“Where’s Tou-san?” Shinichi asked, looking around for an empty chair. Ran pulled him onto her lap, careful not to jostle his injured shoulder, not breaking her conversation with Kazuha, who simultaneously grabbed Heiji. The two shrunken detectives exchanged blushes.

“Are they choreographin’ this now?” Heiji mumbled around his toast, though he showed no intention to move.

“Probably,” Shinichi muttered.

“Here you go,” Yukiko said, passing Shinichi his toast. “I’d better take a plate up to Kaito-chan... I think Yuusaku went to talk to the FBI. There was something about gunshots...”

“Someone shot out a few hidden cameras, ones that the FBI had missed before,” Yuusaku said, returning to the kitchen. “Presumably the same person who shot at the Syndicate on two previous occasions...”

“Yeah?” Shinichi said. “From outside the police ring on the last Kid heist and from our house when Gin and Vodka found me...” then he frowned. _Wait a minute... Okiya-san’s body was left with the snipers... that means it’s..._

“I told them an address that I’d heard they’d do well to pay particular attention to,” Yuusaku continued enigmatically.

“Who gave ya info like that?” Heiji asked with a frown.

“A fellow Holmes fan,” Yuusaku said, sipping his coffee.

“What?” Heiji said, confused.

“Ah,” Shinichi said.

“You know what he’s talkin’ about, Kudo?” Heiji said, staring at Shinichi.

“I think so,” Shinichi said. “We’ll see.”

“Kami above, like father, like son,” Yukiko complained, returning to the kitchen. “Do you two realize how annoying you are when you have a secret?”

“If you weren’t so small, I’d punch you for being irritating,” Ran said to Shinichi.

“See? There are bonuses to being this size,” Shinichi said to Heiji.

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It was the very next day that they saw.

“I hate reconnaissance,” Chianti muttered, peering through her scope.

“ _We just need a head count,_ ” Korn said in her earpiece. “ _I can see one bedridden from here, and four in the lab next door—two adults, two children. No sign of Sherry. You?_ ”

“Five,” Chianti said. “All adult. No sign of Sherry, but she’s got to be on the premises somewhere. So you see five, I see five, plus Sherry... that’s eleven... Korn? Korn, are you there?”

There was only silence on the other end of the radio. Korn was quiet, yeah, but he had to answer to a check-in...

“Hey, Gin, can you get Korn to report? I’m getting nothing on my radio,” she said.

There was a minute of silence, then Gin said, “ _There’s a problem. He’s not reporting in because he’s dead._ ”

“What?!” Chianti gasped.

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“What the hell?” Jodie gasped, staring at the old man’s body lying on the slab.

“He was found in an empty house,” James said. “Seems the elderly occupant is in hospital... heart attack, nothing caused by Them, I hope. He was in a reclining position... through his sniper scope, the Kudo house could be seen. We think he was aiming on the occupants when...”

“Somebody got an aim on him,” Jodie finished. “Could be Korn… he’s been described as an older male sniper. But where was he shot from?”

“That’s the thing,” James said. “The angle and trajectory... they’re from the Kudo house.”

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“You have your memory back?”

“Yeah. You’ve certainly been busy without me,” Shinichi said, sitting on an old cardboard box full of Christmas decorations. “Did you see it the night before last?”

“Yes. I haven’t found the one who knows how to destroy it, though—the Kurosawa daughter.”

“You know about her, too?” Shinichi asked, though he wasn’t entirely surprised.

“I have just as many sources as you do. Often the same ones.”

“So you know the Boss’ locale?” Shinichi pressed.

“Did your father pass it on to the FBI?”

“Yeah.” Shinichi shifted uncomfortably. “That was you at the heist, wasn’t it? And when Gin and Vodka found me the other day. And at Ran’s.”

“Of course.”

“More than a few people are worrying about that. Especially Jodie-sensei...”

The other figure grinned. “She would. Well... since the FBI are going to strike soon, and I have all the really necessary information, maybe I ought to come out of the shadows. A fitting announcement, eh?”

“The body of a sniper that got sniped?” Shinichi mused. “Yeah, that sounds like you...”

“Shin-chan?”

“That’s Kaa-chan,” Shinichi said, a little redundantly as nobody else called him “chan”. “I’d better go.”

“Just so you know, I shot all of their bugs. That’s why they had to send snipers in to do a head count. No cameras.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.” Shinichi jogged down the stairs from the attic. “Kaa-chan?”

“There you are, Shin-chan,” Yukiko said, hugging him and lifting him down to the floor. “Jodie-chan’s here... apparently one of Their snipers has been found dead!”

Shinichi headed down into the front hall to find Jodie limping through to the living room on her crutch and arguing with Yuusaku.

“That shot came from this house,” she insisted. “Are you _certain_ nobody here—?”

“Nobody here owns a gun,” Yuusaku said calmly.

“Jodie-sensei,” Shinichi said, following them into the living room. His mother looked around at the sign of footsteps on the stairs and stared. “Korn’s dead?”

“As it happens, yes,” Jodie said. “How did you know?”

“Because I told him that he could tell you. It’s time I stopped working in the shadows. They can’t see into this house any more anyway.”

Yuusaku narrowed his eyes interrogatorily on the speaker. Jodie whipped around at the voice, too fast, falling off her crutch. Luckily, he caught her.

“Careful, Jodie,” Akai Shuuichi said with a wry grin. “Here I am saving your ass again.”

“Sh- _Shuu_?!” Jodie gasped. “You... you’re really _alive_?”

“Very much so,” Shuuichi said, leading her over to a chair—she was very pale and her legs looked ready to give way at any moment, and no wonder.

“What did you expect?” Shinichi said with a grin. “He went over Reiha falls.”


	81. Reichenbach Falls

“ _How_?!” Jodie demanded. “ _How_ did you survive?!”

“We knew that Gin would demand my death,” Shuuichi explained. “We knew that even if the plan went off without a hitch, Gin would suspect Kir. He needed proof of her loyalty. And what better proof than my head? So I had to appear to die.”

“We... you mean _you_ knew?” Jodie said accusingly to Shinichi.

“Yeah,” Shinichi said, at least _looking_ guilty. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you... but the Syndicate’s confirmation would be in how the FBI reacted, in particular his friends. Your grief had to be real.”

“How on earth did you pull it off?!” Jodie cried, dropping heavily into a chair. “The fingerprints matched the body!”

“Yeah, the fingerprints on the body matched my phone,” Shinichi said, digging in his pocket, “but I have two phones.” He produced two red mobiles. They were identical, down to the football strap. He set them down on the coffee table as he sat across from Jodie, on the couch, his parents a little protectively settling themselves on either side. Shuuichi didn’t sit, but restlessly prowled the room.

“We let you see Akai-san touch one of the phones,” Shinichi explained. “My ‘idea’ was just a pretext. But there were another set of fingerprints on my other phone—fingerprints belonging to a man who was now dead of a bullet in the head...”

“Kusuda Rikumichi,” Jodie breathed.

“The body was going to stay in storage until something new came up in the investigation, and I knew it wouldn’t,” Shuuichi said. “I stole it. I hid it, dressed in my clothes, under the back seat of my car. I already knew of many of the places that the Syndicate had slated for covert assassinations, and the seventh turn on Reiha Pass seemed most likely. I could work it elsewhere, but… anyway, I was right. I knew Gin would want cameras, too. He’d want to see me die. She shot me in the gut, but I was wearing a bulletproof vest, of course. I crushed a pellet of fake blood in my mouth, and bent over, crushing another in my hand, making it look like I was bleeding, like blood was invading my lungs. Then she was ordered to shoot me in the head...”

“How on earth did you fake that?” Jodie asked.

“I didn’t,” Shuuichi said, tapping the scar on his cheek. “Not quite. She shot me like this, though it looked like it was through the head. I made sure to fall fast, into the open back door of my car, onto the side with the scar. Blood dripped all over the place—through the camera, it would have looked like a shot through the head. Then she set the bomb next to me. I knew I’d have thirty seconds...”

“And meanwhile, Kir would drive away, not watching him anymore,” Shinichi said. “Which made it easier for him to switch the bodies... even though Gin was watching from a distance, he wouldn’t be able to see two moving bodies dressed in black inside a dark car in the distance.”

“Precisely,” Shuuichi confirmed. “I left his body on the backseat, one hand protected for the fingerprints, and jumped out at the last moment...”

“Just like you had Andre do,” Jodie realized.

“Bingo,” Shuuichi said with a wink. “Didn’t get away clean—” he indicated the burn scar—“but it worked. I climbed a little way down the side of the pass... see, there was a cave down there. Very shallow, if I fell asleep I’d fall out, but importantly it kept me out of the line of sight of anyone looking over the edge... sound familiar?”

“Reichenbach Falls,” Yuusaku said. “It’s how Holmes survived.”

“Gin might have seen me climbing down the edge, but since I was wearing black clothes and it was dark, that would only have been if he was looking,” Shuuichi said, “and he wasn’t. He probably left the second the bomb went off.”

“So you had to lay low for a while,” Yuusaku said, “and lo and behold, you had a friend with a big, empty house...”

“I stayed there until dawn,” Shuuichi explained. “Then I climbed back up and hitched a lift back to Tokyo. I paid the trucker not to ask about the scar. I walked back to 2-21 Beika... an empty house. I stayed for a while, and while I did I was careful to hide anything personal about Kudo Shinichi... you noticed that all of your photo albums and so on had vanished?”

“Well, yes,” Yukiko said. “I thought Shinichi had put them away.”

“No,” Shuuichi said, “Kudo told me his story at the hospital… It wasn’t exactly a surprise, I already knew a lot about Project Pandora and had guessed what had happened to Sherry…”

“I thought he ought to know,” Shinichi said quietly. He looked a little upset, though his gaze was a little unfocused, looking into the past. “I thought… I don’t know. Maybe I felt like I owed it to him… for Akemi-san.” Jodie felt an odd pang at the name, though it wasn’t grief for the woman’s sad death.

“I did it while I was hiding and healing,” Shuuichi continued. “All to prepare for something that Kir had tipped me off about before... Bourbon, an agent who was going to be placed in the area to watch Mori Kogoro.”

“I figured he’d investigate my house at some point,” Shinichi said. “The one who had closed the case on me was a traitor, after all. I hadn’t really expected him to move into my house... the burning case was a bolt out of the blue. Akai-san had told me who he was, and then he requested to stay at Agasa-Hakase’s... I couldn’t have him that close to Sherry, of course, but I couldn’t let him slip out of our reach. So I offered him my house...”

“And I watched him,” Shuuichi said. “All the time. I’d intended to take his place at some point, and this proximity just made it easier.”

“Then you killed him?” Jodie said.

“I hadn’t intended to until necessary, but he found me,” Shuuichi said with a shrug. “Kudo-kun helped me replace him with his mother’s disguise supplies... thankfully, not a huge amount was necessary, since we look a little alike. Mostly a wig and coloured contacts, and something to cover my scar. For two months, ‘Okiya Subaru’—Bourbon—was me.”

“So there was a _body_ sitting in our house for _two months_?!” Yukiko suddenly shrieked.

“No, no, no,” Shinichi said rapidly, patting his mother’s arm soothingly. “Akai-san hid it...”

“In Kusuda Rikumichi’s body bag,” Shuuichi said. “It was only a temporary measure. I just dyed his hair black and hid it there, in the police morgue, until I could dispose of it at a more opportune moment...”

“When Ran-kun’s family was shot at,” Yuusaku concluded.

“Bourbon got sent in as the second sniper,” Shuuichi said. “I tampered with the explosives to stop them from incinerating the entire building. Then I shot the other guy and dumped Bourbon’s body, which I’d brought along and hidden since I knew that there was no way I could sabotage the mission and get Bourbon out alive. I had the information I needed, anyway.”

“Which was?” Jodie asked.

“The address you told me,” Yuusaku said quietly.

“You knew he was here?!” Yukiko demanded, rounding on her husband.

“Not for long,” Yuusaku said, slightly nervously, backing away from his angry wife, “thought I knew Okiya Subaru wasn’t what he appeared. I caught him sneaking in not long ago and confronted him... the problem with you losing your memories, Shinichi, on top of everything else, is that you keep _so many secrets._ ”

“Sorry,” Shinichi said, grinning. “To be fair, you like to make it hard to remember that you can’t actually read my mind.”

“So the end result,” Jodie said, staring in shock at Shuuichi, “is that... that address is...?”

“The home of Red Rum,” Shuuichi confirmed. “The boss of the Organization.”

“Red Rum?” Jodie asked. “That’s his codename?”

“A rather portentous one,” Yuusaku mused.

“Why?” Yukiko asked.

“Translate it into English,” Shinichi said. “In any case, if you can take him out...”

“We’ll concentrate our efforts there,” Jodie declared, grabbing her phone. “In the meantime...”

“I’ll head back with you,” Shuuichi offered. “I no longer have any need to play the part of Bourbon... but for Kir’s sake, I’d better lay low anyway.”

“And we have to get packing,” Yukiko said firmly. “We need to get ready to go to America.”

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“Where’s Akako-chan?” Aoko asked the next morning, glancing around the classroom. She was used to Kaito being gone now, though it was hard knowing that soon, he wouldn’t even be on the same continent. But... as long as he got out alive...

“I don’t know...” Hakuba said thoughtfully. “She hasn’t seemed well recently...”

“You don’t look well either,” Aoko said. The normally composed and pristine detective was pale, with bags under his eyes and his blond hair a mess. “Have you been sleeping?”

“Not well,” Hakuba sighed, stifling a yawn. “I’ve been researching the Pandora and so on, mostly... Looking for stories of Eta and Ushi, now. I was up all last night reading...” He rubbed his eyes.

“You need to sleep, you know!” Aoko chided him. “Does nobody remind you to?”

“Koizumi-san keeps telling me to, as well...”

“Huh?” Aoko asked.

“It’s not like that!” Hakuba said quickly, his pale cheeks regaining a little color. “It’s her library I’ve been researching in, it has plenty of odd information... and, well, research aside, I prefer being there than home. Mother still hasn’t returned to England, so if I went home, she’d be dragging me to her parties...”

“Shouldn’t she be observing your father’s mourning period?” Aoko said in shock.

“Are you kidding? She’s probably already chosen her next victim,” Hakuba snorted. “Well... I’m grateful to Koizumi-san for letting me hide out at hers, in any case. She seems to have something on her mind, though...”

“Well either go get her to tell you, or go _sleep_ ,” Aoko demanded. “Look at yourself! You’re exhausted...”

“So are you,” Hakuba observed. “Your eyes are red. Have you been crying?”

“I...” Aoko rapidly wiped her eyes. “They’re leaving tomorrow. For America. They can’t come back until it’s all over...”

“You don’t want him to leave again,” Hakuba said softly.

“He has to,” Aoko sniffed. “He’s not safe here. I just... I only just got him back. Not just from his travelling, either... it’s just that... he’s been so distant, for so long. Even before he became Kid... he kept everyone so far away. Even me. He’s been so far away for so long, and I only just got him back...” she trailed off, blushing a little.

“We still have five minutes until the teacher appears, so I’ll make a deal with you,” Hakuba said, glancing at his watch. “You go to the Kudo’s. Go spend some time with him while you have the chance. I’ll... go home, or something.”

“What’ll we tell sensei?” Aoko said worriedly, picking up her bag as Hakuba grabbed her hand and tugged her out of the classroom.

“We tell him nothing,” he said. “We’re ditching. We both have more important things to worry about.”

“Fine... you will get some rest, right?” Aoko said worriedly.

“I promise.” Hakuba suddenly leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.

“What—?!” Aoko said, but he just smiled.

“Thank you,” Hakuba said. “You probably never realize what you do for people—for me, for Koizumi-san, and most importantly, for Kuroba. He needs you like you need him, Nakamori-san. Look after that idiot.” With that, he turned and left, heading for Haido. Aoko stared after him for a second, ignoring the stares of her classmates, then shrugged and went to check the time of the next bus to Beika.

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Saguru ran one hand through his now messy blond hair with a tired smile. That was it; no matter what he’d said, no matter how often he needled Kuroba, he had given up on Aoko. He’d probably never truly been in love with her; from the first moment, it had been obvious how she felt about _him_. She had been a means to irritate Kuroba, something he regretted now.

He wanted them to be happy. She deserved it. She was a good friend. She’d taught him so much.

Like how important it was to have friends. How important it was not to be alone.

He paused, about to head on to his house. Then he changed his mind, backtracking and opening the tall black gates of the Koizumi mansion.

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“I just wish you’d _told_ me you were alive,” Jodie sighed. Shuuichi was driving, taking them both to see James and inform him that Shuuichi _was_ alive. “I mean, you even ignored me completely at the bank robbery...”

“I apologize, but I couldn’t risk compromising your safety,” Shuuichi said calmly. “Surely you realize that.”

“I know,” Jodie muttered. “I’m being silly. I just...” she trailed off.

“Just?” Shuuichi prompted her.

“I missed you,” she admitted, blushing strongly. “It hurt, so much, to think you were gone forever...”

“You missed me?” Shuuichi asked quietly.

“A lot, all right?” Jodie said hotly. “You’re my most important friend and I missed you...”

“Most important friend?” Shuuichi pressed.

“Y-yes...” Jodie muttered, blushing even stronger. “I mean... never mind. You’re very important to me, that’s all… you’re still hurting, aren’t you? Over Akemi-san’s death. You’re trying to destroy the Organization for her...”

“Because they killed her...” Shuuichi said, slowing for the traffic lights, “and because they hurt you.”

“Huh?” Jodie began, a second before he leaned over and kissed her.

_Sh-Shuu..._

They broke apart when the cars behind them started honking. The car began to move forwards again.

“I told you,” he said softly, “That being able to love twice is a bad trait... and I have a lot of bad traits.”

“I-I think I can put up with it,” Jodie said, shaken, but somehow unable to stop smiling.


	82. Tears

“Hakuba-kun?” Akako said in surprise as the blond kokosei-tantei appeared at her library door.

“Nakamori-san and I ditched,” he explained, dropping his book bag by the door. “She went to see Kuroba, and I came to see how you were doing... you seem to have something on your mind. Do you... want to talk about it?”

 _If what Lucifer said is true,_ Akako thought, _then there’s one chance... one way to stop them... but..._ she clenched her hand around the scars on her wrist. Could she do this?

“ _You got magic because you were weak. I found magic because I was strong. I didn’t run from my memories. I looked back on them, looked them full in the face, and said, “I’m stronger now.” You can run from your mistakes... or you can learn from them.”_

“Well, if you do...” Hakuba said after a long period of silence. “It’s really very cathartic to talk to someone, you know.” He glanced around the library. “Your library certainly has some... _unorthodox_ tomes. Have you found anything about Pandora yet?”

“There’s nothing out here,” Akako said softly. “But there might be... in _here_.” She tapped her temples.

“What?” he said, narrowing his eyes, “You know something?”

“I don’t _know_ it,” she said. “I...” she took a deep breath. “Do you know how witches come to be?”

“Actually, up until a while ago I didn’t believe in them at all, so not really,” Hakuba admitted, sitting down in the chair across from hers. “In western mythology, they’re people who traded their souls to Satan for power.”

“It’s something like that,” Akako said. “But not everyone can make the trade. He takes your memories too, you see. They have to be giving you so much pain that you’ll take any way out. You have to scream for Lucifer from the very depths of your heart. The second you cry a single tear, the magic vanishes and your memories return... and Lucifer doesn’t do second chances.”

“That’s why you hesitate,” Hakuba said quietly. “You think you know the information that we need, but to get it you’ll also regain something that hurt you so bad that you sold your soul... and even tried to commit suicide.” Akako jerked her head up. “You’ve been clutching that wrist for a good ten minutes and you always wear long sleeves. It’s easy to deduce what scars you’re hiding.”

“Yes,” she said. “I think... I think I tried to take the normal out, suicide, and it failed. That’s when Lucifer came to me.” Her voice was trembling, and she closed her eyes, fighting the forbidden tears. “I want to help... you and Kuroba-kun and Aoko-chan and Kudo-kun and... everybody... I want to help _so much,_ but... I’m so _scared_... what hurt me that badly? I’m so scared to know...”

“It’s your choice, Koizumi-san,” Hakuba said. “I long to know how to destroy that cursed thing, but I cannot condone the destruction of a _person_ to do so.”

The tears fought to come even stronger then. _I have what he needs to bring those who killed his father to justice, yet he’d still forsake that information… for my sake…?_

“ _People who care…_ ”

“I...” Akako clenched her fists. “I... I want to try and remember. I think... if I can be stronger now, like I wasn’t before... maybe... I can remember without so much pain. It might not destroy me if I have something else to hold onto. I’m sure I had nothing back then. But now I have you and Kuroba-kun and Aoko-chan... don’t let me forget that, all right? Can you stay here with me while I try? Please?”

“I’ll stay,” Hakuba promised. “I won’t let you forget why you’re doing this. _I_ won’t forget why you’re doing this...” He stood again, walking over to stand by her chair, to be nearer. “Thank you.”

Akako forced a smile. “You’re welcome.” Then she let go, allowing the tears to fall and open the Pandora’s Box of her heart.

And releasing _evil_.

The lights in the room went out, and everything was suffused with a hot red glow. She vaguely heard Hakuba yelp in surprise, but so much louder was the screaming, as her whole life happened to her at once. And the screaming was coming from her.

_P-please! Please give me a chance! I never meant to... no... no! AAAAAAAAAAUUUUUGH... aah... no... pl-pl-please..._

_Do it already. They sent you to kill me, right? So do it!_

_Keep this a secret. They can’t ever know..._

_Traitors are not tolerated!_

_Onee-chan, why?_

_It’s your choice. So what’ll it be?_

_You can’t ever escape..._

Akako screamed, all the screams at once, her screams, her brother’s screams, her parent’s screams, the screams of the people she’d killed, all at once, all of it tearing into her... murderer, betrayer, prisoner...

“You’ve left Him, have you?” she heard her servant—no, it was a youkai gaoler now, come for her—hiss behind her. “Silly girl! You knew what’d happen if you cried...” Then it yelped. Through her tears, Akako forced her head up, and through her shaking, burning vision she saw Hakuba, standing with one of the ornamental swords from the wall, watching the youkai shrink back with cold eyes.

“Seems like good old mortal steel works on this thing,” he said. The sight of the sword just wrought more screams from Akako as she pressed her head into her arms, trying to hide from the sounds, the images, but she couldn’t, it was _all her fault..._

“Koizumi-san? Koizumi-san!”

That wasn’t her name, was it? She’d made it up... her real name... her real name was...

“Koizumi-san? _Akako_!”

Akako looked up at that; _that_ was really her first name at least. Hakuba was shaking her shoulders now, trying to get her to look at him.

“Akako!” he demanded. “Look at me. Come on. You said you could fight it, right? You can be strong!”

“I c-can’t,” she sobbed. “You don’t know what I am, what I’ve _done_... I’m a _monster_... I’m... I’m...”

“You’re not a monster,” he said sternly. Akako laughed wildly, madly, tears still streaming down her cheeks. He thought he meant that! He had no _idea_ , did he? None at all... he didn’t know...

“I’m a killer,” she whispered. “So many times... so many people... I can’t even remember their names, not even their dying faces. It was never important. Doing the job, doing it right... that was all that mattered. Like a game. Kill one, and you’d go back and get another file, and there’d be another face, someone else to watch for a few days, learn their routines, learn their habits, and then decide how to kill them... oh, a good death, one that looked like an accident... it was such _fun_.” Hakuba’s face was unreadable, but she knew what he was thinking. He was a detective. He hated killers. Better than anyone, he knew what a monster she was. He’d know now. “Sometimes I killed them in their sleep, which wasn’t as much fun because they didn’t scream... some screamed or cried or begged... it was so _pathetic_ , so _funny_ , like ants...”

“Why did you kill?” Hakuba asked.

She smiled mirthlessly. “How did I come to this? Because I was told to,” she explained, on the edge of hysteria, watching his tawny eyes, waiting to see the penny drop within them. Waiting to see the realization, the revulsion. “That was the way it’d always been. My parents had been doing it since long before I was born. I was born to do it. It was all I knew... killing and the stories.”

“Stories?” Hakuba asked. She nodded, almost dreamily. He must understand now. He was just curious. Detectives always were. Detectives _had to know_.

“My parents,” she said. “They worked for an executive who told them stories about a jewel of immortality. I remember them all, now. But then they killed my parents. They were traitors.”

“Who are ‘They’?” Hakuba asked. “The people you and your parents worked for?”

“You know,” Akako laughed. “ _Them!_ The Shadow Syndicate. The people who killed _your_ father... I’m one of them! Isn’t that funny?” Hakuba flinched. Of course he would. Now he knew that she was the enemy.

“They weren’t supposed to know, you see,” she said. “They told me they were going to look for the jewel, even though they weren’t supposed to know about it. That was against orders. They were tried and put in a gas chamber. We heard them screaming as they died, my little brother and I. He was sad. I didn’t want him to be sad, so I told him that it was all right because they were traitors. Then I went to kill that man.”

“What man?” Hakuba asked quietly.

“Oh, I can’t remember,” she said offhandedly. “Names never mattered. But he was different from the others. He saw me pointing a gun at him and shot it out of my hand. He beat me down in hand-to-hand combat. I thought he was going to kill me. I wanted him to. I’d failed, and that was bad. I’d be killed if I went back a failure. But he talked to me. He asked me how old I was. I said seventeen. He asked me if I’d killed many people. I said I couldn’t remember how many. He was a detective, I think, and I thought for sure he’d arrest or execute me. But he suddenly looked very sad, and said he felt sorry for me. I couldn’t understand what he meant. Then he walked away and left me. They were angry, you know, like I said. They hurt me, and they made me watch when they hurt my brother, and they said we’d both die if I failed again. I didn’t want them to kill him. So I went back to kill the man, but suddenly it was hard. The man was different. He wasn’t afraid to die. He only said that it was sad that They used a child to do such monstrous things. He killed himself when I cornered him. He said he wouldn’t put more blood on my hands. It was strange. He hadn’t cried or begged. He hadn’t been afraid to die. I was. I was so afraid that They’d found out that it hadn’t been me that killed him, and they’d kill my brother and me. I was so afraid. For the first time, I was so afraid.”

“You should be,” the youkai hissed. “You’re a murderer, a traitor, a monster...”

“And _you’re_ not helping,” Hakuba said, slashing at the youkai again, driving it and its whispered truths away from Akako. “Akako... what happened then?”

“I was afraid, and then in my dreams it wasn’t my brother I was afraid for,” she said, a little distantly, letting the flood of memory flow out of her mouth on its own, her mind too consumed with self-hatred and fear. “I saw their dying faces again. I heard the screaming. Every night, all of them screaming, like the man had broken a dam in my head. I saw that I had hurt so many people like the Syndicate had threatened to hurt me. I realized what I was. I was a monster. I wanted to run away. I told my brother, but he refused. He said that was bad, being a traitor like our parents. He wouldn’t come with me. He didn’t care about me. He belonged to Them, like I once had, but I didn’t anymore and I was afraid because I didn’t know _where_ I belonged. And even though he didn’t care about me I cared about him, and I knew that if I ran they’d kill him and then they’d kill me. I was going to die at their hands sooner or later, and the voices were screaming all the time, even when I was awake... I wanted to make them stop, I wanted to make them all stop...”

“So you tried to kill yourself,” Hakuba said, touching her wrist. She nodded, burying her head in her hands again.

“I couldn’t even do _that_ right,” she sobbed. “ _They_ found me, and they said they’d punish me for trying to run away... I had nothing, and it all hurt so much, I wanted _any_ way to just _make it stop_... then the fiery creature came to me in my dreams...”

“And you gave him your memories,” Hakuba said. “You gained dark power, and immortality... because if you can’t look back you can’t move forward.”

“But now it’s all gone,” she said bitterly. “The screams... I can hear them all again, and I’ll never be able to die, and every day and every night I’ll hear them, and the youkai will remind me what I am so I don’t forget... I don’t _deserve_ to forget... I deserve this... forever and ever... I’m a monster...”

“That’s the youkai talking,” Hakuba said sharply, dropping the sword and grabbing her shoulders. “It’s not the way it has to be.”

“It’s the truth,” Akako whispered.

“No it’s not!” Hakuba said, surprisingly viciously, shaking her slightly. “Listen to yourself! You can’t blame yourself for something you were indoctrinated into as a child. From the sounds of it, you were a child soldier, Akako, and God knows they can’t be held responsible for their crimes. You could blame yourself if you never thought to change as an adult, but you _did_ change. Even though it only hurt you, you found the strength to change. You made yourself better than Them. You feel remorse for what you did and who you were. You could have forced yourself to forget those feelings and be a killer again, but you didn’t. You kept them. You were even willing to take your own life to prevent yourself from taking anyone else’s. That’s not what a monster would do. And you haven’t killed anyone since then, have you?”

“Only because I forgot what I was,” she mumbled.

Hakuba pulled her hands away from her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. “You forgot what you’d done,” he said, “but that didn’t mean that who you were changed. You haven’t killed anyone since because a killer isn’t who you are. Who you are is someone who let a girl that you’d labelled a rival cry into your shoulder. Who you are is somebody who came to my father’s funeral and made it rain because you couldn’t cry yourself.” Her eyes widened. How did he know that she’d done that? When did he realize? “Who you are is somebody who more than more than once saved Kuroba’s hide, even though his very existence was an obstacle to your power. Who you are is somebody who cried, even though you _knew_ that it would put you through unimaginable pain, because it would bring back the memories you needed to help your friends. _Who you are is not a monster_.” He pulled out a photograph, forcing it in front of her eyes. It showed the four of them, Kaito giving the camera a silly smile, Aoko laughing, Hakuba smiling gently at the camera, and her, in between Hakuba and Aoko, who had one arm around her shoulders, the four of them, together, happy, as New Year’s fireworks lit the sky behind them... her friends... the reason she... “Who you are is not alone. Remember? We’re your _friends_.”

“How can you not hate me?” Akako sobbed. “You know what I did—”

“And I don’t blame you, not if you feel this much pain for it,” Hakuba said, gentler again, coaxing her back from the edge. “I blame Them, every single day. So does Kuroba, and Kudo, and Hattori. I don’t hate you, Akako. I don’t see a killer. I see someone who’s been used hurt just as much as any of us by Them, if not more.”

“You’re a fool,” she sobbed, “and you can’t speak for Kuroba-kun and Aoko-chan. They’ll hate me.”

“They won’t,” Hakuba said, “And I can speak for them because they’re my friends and I know them. I know them like I know you, because you’re my friend too, all right? We’re your friends and we understand. Maybe you’ve done horrible things, unforgiveable things, but you want to make up for it so you can. You can make up for it starting now. We’re not going to leave you. You’re not alone.”

“He’s lying!” the youkai hissed, but now it sounded frantic, urgent. Like it was losing its grip.

 _Like its lies are being unveiled_ , she thought, dazedly. “I’m... not alone?” she asked. The red shadows recoiled. “Yes. I... I did this for my friends. Because I _care_ about my friends. If I was a monster, I wouldn’t care...”

“That’s right,” Hakuba said, with the careful air of one talking someone off a ledge. “We don’t think you’re a monster and we won’t leave you alone. I promise. That’s what friends are for. You know how I know? Friends get sad when their friends are hurt and friends get sad when friends cry. I feel sad right now.”

“I don’t want you to feel sad,” she whispered.

“Then you care,” Hakuba said gently, giving her a little smile. “You’re a good person, like I thought. It’s all right now. You’re not alone any more. The scary part is all over. I promise.”

The shadows had receded entirely, the electric lamps relighting. The youkai was shrinking away, barely seeming larger than the toad that he was, and Akako saw him; he fed off of her fear and pain, but if she found the strength to push past that...

“ _I found the strength to look back at my past and say, ‘thank you. I didn’t want you, but I have you and that can’t be changed. So I’ll thank you. Thank you for making me stronger.’ I can say that because, even though sometimes it seems like my past will crush me, I won’t have to stand against it alone. If there’s even one person standing beside me to fight with me, just one person who’s standing there and will stay there... suddenly the pain in my past seems so weak. I can be strong for the people standing with me. Even if it’s just one..._ ”

Akako burst into fresh sobs, but the tears no longer burned her; they were normal tears, healing tears, tears that must be shed for her to face her past and rise above it. She flung her arms around Hakuba’s neck, sobbing into his shoulder. He stiffened slightly, unused to close contact, but he must have known that pushing her away would just have sent her right back; instead he patted her a little awkwardly on the shoulder, just sitting there with her until she had cried every tear that she had to shed.

She didn’t know how long they sat like that. It could have been hours or minutes. She knew that if she asked Hakuba, he would probably tell her how long to the second, but she didn’t. She relished in just _knowing_ that; in knowing another person, how much less alone she felt. She stood, wiping her eyes.

“Are you ready, Koizumi-san?” Hakuba said, returning to his normal formality now that she was a little more stable. She knew she wouldn’t be completely stable until she saw Aoko and Kaito and they didn’t reject her, but just having one person beside her gave her the strength to stand. Besides, now she knew how to help them. She could _help_ somebody, not hurt them.

“As I’ll ever be,” she said, grinning weakly. “Oh... and I remembered, my name isn’t ‘Koizumi’. It must have been a name the youkai chose. It’s Kurosawa. Kurosawa Akako. For clarity’s sake, can we stick to ‘Akako’? Or ‘Akako-san’, if you must.”

“One must be polite, Akako-san,” he said as he stood to follow her.

“Then I suppose I should say thank you,” she said.

“You don’t have to,” he replied.

“I know,” she said, smiling softly. “That’s what I’m thanking you for.”

She took his hand and closed her eyes, light enveloping them—white light, rather than hellfire—as they vanished. Behind them, the Koizumi mansion burned to the ground.


	83. The Cure

Aoko shrieked in surprise as a bright white flash lit up Kudo Shinichi’s room, clutching Kaito’s hand in fear.

He’d been surprised when she’d turned up, even more surprise when he’d sat up just in time for her to kiss him. But he was glad to have her there. It was better than spending all day sitting in there in loneliness. His ribs weren’t hurting him anymore, but he still had to be careful about movement. Still, it was enough that he could leave tomorrow with everyone...

Then they’d been quite happily talking about everything he hadn’t told her about his time as Kid, when some bright white flash had obscured everything, and a moment later Hakuba and Akako had appeared, hand in hand.

“I thought you said your magic would disappear,” Hakuba said, looking around with interest. “Nakamori-san, Kuroba... how are you?”

“Just the dark magic. I think I may have had some naturally in me,” Akako said, letting go of his hand and staring at hers. “From my mother…” She looked odd... different. Her colouring had changed—her purple hair was now a normal raven black, and her glittering ruby eyes had become gleaming emeralds. And she was just... different, somehow. White-light teleportation notwithstanding, she looked... _normal_.

“Akako-chan... what _happened_ to you?” Aoko gasped.

Akako gave her a gentle, beautiful smile, and it _was_ beautiful; not the cold, bewitching beauty that she’d possessed before, but something warmer, something more real. “I cried,” she said. Even her voice was softer, without the cold pride that had permeated it before.

“I thought if you did that you’d lose your magic,” Kaito said in surprise.

“I did,” she said, sitting down on the end of his bed next to Aoko, while Hakuba pulled over the desk chair. “The witchcraft, anyway... like I was saying to Saguru-kun, I think I may have had some magic in my bloodline naturally. My mother was a psychic.”

“So you’re... not a witch?” Aoko asked. “Is that why you look so... different?”

“I do, don’t I?” she said, staring into a mirror on the wall. “Not as much as I feared... I thought I’d turn into Dorian Gray and age thirty years in thirty seconds... but I guess this is what I really look like. I have my memories back, too...”

“Your memories?” Kaito asked in confusion.

“That’s what witches trade for the dark magic,” Hakuba said. “Their soul and memories, bound by a tear... But now Akako-san has her memories back.” Kaito remembered that he’d have to ask when he and Akako had gotten onto first-name terms.

“Yes,” Akako said in that same softer voice, “and first, I just want to explain to you two who I am... I guess I owe it to you, after all...”

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“They know that we’re planning to strike the night after tomorrow night,” James muttered, setting the phone down. It had been a day, but he was still a little pale and shellshocked whenever Shuuichi was in the room. “Kami knows how, but they do...”

“So that was Kir?” Shuuichi asked, calmly ignoring how his mere breathing badly freaked out the rest of the FBI.

“Indeed,” James said. “We need to move the strike forwards. Surprise them.”

“Tomorrow night?” Jodie said in surprise. “Are we ready?”

“We have the addresses, we know where to focus on,” James said, nodding to Shuuichi. “Continue telling everyone that the strike will be the day after tomorrow, and to be ready at all times until then in case of developments.”

“Technically, if it’s after midnight tomorrow night, you won’t be lying,” Shuuichi chuckled. “It’ll distract them from attacking the people that you’re removing from the country, as well...”

“That’s the problem,” James said with a frown. “Yuusaku-kun called. Something’s come up... he wouldn’t give details, he just asked for a couple of days to ‘destroy it’.”

“It being...?” Jodie asked. Shuuichi narrowed his eyes, but he smiled.

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“The sketch wasn’t drawn by you,” Akako explained that night. Shinichi had gotten the fright of his life when the witch—or ex-witch—had appeared out of his bedroom and called for everyone, saying that she had something to tell them. She looked very different without her powers, with normal colouring and an oddly familiar face. Hakuba seemed to find her transformation fascinating too, if the way he couldn’t take his eyes off of her was any indication.

Shinichi wondered how long they’d been there, or what the four had been talking about. Both Aoko and Akako had very red eyes (although only in the sense that they had been crying; Akako’s irises were now deep green) and even Kuroba looked a little shellshocked. But whatever it was, the end result was that Akako had apparently regained her own memories… and they contained something important.

“First, I have a confession to make,” Akako said. “I know who I am now. Forty-seven years ago, I was born to a couple named Kurosawa—Hanako and James. Their respective codenames were Cider and Applejack. They were top assassins for the Syndicate.”

“You were born into Them?” Ai said in shock, as various surprised expressions appeared around the room. “Like... me?”

“Yes,” Akako said. “Like you and your sister and your father... I remember your father. Miyano Atsushi. Five years older than me. He’d just taken over Project Pandora, the last I remember of him. You were raised to be a scientist like him... I was raised to be an assassin, like my parents.”

“You were...?” Shinichi said slowly, feeling shellshocked.

“My codename was Tia Maria,” Akako said distantly. “And yes, I killed on order. Many times... It was what I was raised to do, and I didn’t know anything else. Until... Okaa-sama started telling me stories.”

“What kinda stories?” Hattori said suspiciously. He’d been watching Akako nervously ever since her revelation that she was a born and bred assassin.

“About the Pandora,” Akako said, ignoring his suspicious watch though with slightly less composure than she once bore. “And about its discoverers... Eta and Ushi. She was great friends with Eta, you see... codenamed Vermouth.”

“Of course!” Shinichi yelped. “Kurosawa Hanako! Vermouth—Eta—mentioned her in her story... so you’re the daughter of the ones who figured out how to destroy the Pandora... but, Kami, that means you’re—” he bit off the sentence there.

“I’m...?” Akako said questioningly. His mind whirred as he sought for an alternative ending to that sentence.

“You’re... the only living person who knows how to destroy it,” he finished. If the way Yuusaku, Kuroba, Hattori and Hakuba were staring at him was any indication, they’d noticed his abrupt change in tone. “The ghost hovering around Eta that I saw in my delirium...”

“Almost certainly Okaa-sama,” Akako said quietly. “She was powerfully psychic. She probably drew the picture.”

“A _ghost_ drew that picture?” Kazuha gasped, going pale and backing away from the photograph as if it would bite her.

“The ghost ain’t gonna jump outta the photo,” Heiji grumbled.

“What does it mean?” Ran pleaded.

“Okaa-sama used to draw pictures like this when I was little,” Akako said with a sad smile. “They were games. Puzzles. It was all in visual metaphor and imagery... anyway, the cracked doublet in the centre is obvious. It’s how to destroy the Pandora.”

“I thought it was just a message that Kid’s aim was to destroy the Pandora,” Shinichi said. “That’s what it looks like...”

“Okaa-sama thought differently from you,” Akako chuckled. “Eta disliked the Miyano’s research, because she... she no longer desired immortality. She wanted them to fail, so it could end. But Okaa-sama and Otou-sama... they realized that the research could be useful. If a liquid giving immortality could be scientifically created, could that same science not be used to create an _antidote_ to immortality?”

“Working on it,” Ai sighed.

“But theoretically possible,” Akako said. “And my mother noted that at one point in the story of Pandora’s discovery... well, what happened when the night of the comet’s pass ended and sunlight touched the Pandora?”

“The liquid became a protective shell...” Shinichi remembered.

“Precisely,” Akako said, holding out her hand. Kuroba wordlessly placed the Pandora in it. “In other words, this is not diamond, nor any form of jewel. This jewel, aside from the true jewel at its heart, is made of pure, crystallized elixir of youth.”

“That’s it!” Kuroba cried, snapping his fingers. “You mean... if Haibara-Hime there—” He had taken to calling Ai this due to her aloof manner, and in the finest traditions of two-year-old psychology, had called her  nothing but ever since she had expressed her displeasure at the nickname—“created an antidote to the drug, it might neutralize the shell?”

“Precisely,” Akako said. “The monocle means Kid, the Heisei Lupin... Lupin is the antithesis to Holmes... So it is the anti-Holmes, or Anti-Sherlock. Shiyaroku Antidote will destroy the jewel...”

“That’s quite impressively twisted,” Shinichi said approvingly.

“It might actually work,” Agasa mused.

“And if a protective shell is necessary,” Yuusaku pointed out, “the heart inside must be very fragile indeed.”

“I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but I don’t _have_ the true antidote,” Ai said coolly, “only a temporary one.”

“It might be powerful enough to neutralize the shell, even if it’s only meant to work on a temporary basis,” Hakuba mused. “If you had enough to submerge the jewel...”

“We only need it out of its shell for a few minutes, after all,” Kaito said, cracking his knuckles.

“It’ll take me a long time to distil enough of the temporary antidote in liquid form,” Ai said thoughtfully. “Hakase and I will probably be working all night and all day tomorrow too...”

“But you can do it?” Yuusaku asked. Ai slowly nodded.

“That’s wonderful!” Yukiko squealed. “It’ll finally be destroyed...” her smile faded as she thought of something. “What’ll happen to... Sharon-chan?”

“She’s _dead_ ,” Ai pointed out sharply.

“And if the story is anything to go by, she will not remain so,” Yuusaku reminded her softly.

“I think that she and Ushi were slowly slipping back into the stream of time, so it may simply be that she and Ushi begin aging again,” Akako said with a shrug. “But on the other hand... Eta said often that she sensed the comet’s approach. Okaa-sama said that they were linked. So if Eta and Ushi are linked to the jewel, and the link, rather than degrading naturally, is violently broken... then perhaps...”

“We’ll see that Dorian Gray effect after all,” Hakuba said quietly.

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“First Bourbon, now Korn!” Chianti raged. “What the hell’s going on? Do you think someone’s warned them about where we’re going to be?”

“Not one of us,” Gin said quietly, his gaze sweeping over her, Kir and Vodka. “Vermouth’s body was never found...”

“We saw you kill her!” Kir said in shock. “How could she be—?!”

“And I thought I saw Kudo Shinichi die,” Gin said quietly. “Assume nothing until the body is found.”

“Nobody can survive being shot in the _head_ , though,” Kir pointed out.

“No,” Gin said, watching her dangerously, “they can’t, can they?”

His phone suddenly rang with an oddly incongruous ringtone— _Nanatsu No Ko_. Gin answered without taking his eyes off of Kir.

“Hai,” he said after a moment. “I understand.” He closed the phone again, looking around the rest.

“What is it?” Vodka asked. “What does Anokata want?”

“He’s coming to lead the assault,” Gin said with an odd glint in his eye. Kir might almost have said it was joy, if she wasn’t quite certain that he was beyond such emotions.

“What’s our plan, then?” Kir asked.

“We four are the most trusted remaining members,” Gin said. “We will be accompanying him. But to deal with the police and FBI guards...”

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“Hey, Ran...”

Shinichi was sitting curled up next to Ran on the sofa. Hakuba and Akako had remained in his room, talking to Kuroba and Aoko. The revelations about Akako’s past had proven a shock even to herself, and she needed her friends’ comfort. Shinichi wasn’t surprised. The statute of limitations for all of her crimes had long passed (and even if it hadn’t, Hakuba wasn’t wrong to insistently term her a child soldier instead of an assassin) but that was hardly a comfort to one who fully expected—and _wanted_ —to be punished for their sins.

“Is it about what you were really going to say about Akako-chan?” Ran asked perceptively.

“How’d you—?” Shinichi began, but Ran placed a finger over his lips to silence him with a smile.

“It was a little obvious that you were holding something back,” Ran said, quirking a wider smile. “You’ve been mulling over it this whole time, haven’t you? How long have I known you?”

“All right, all right,” Shinichi muttered. “It’s just... I know who she is. I think... I know who her brother is, and where. But... I just feel that it’ll only hurt her more to know... he’ll hardly even recognize her after all this time, and even if he did, I doubt he’d care. Is it... wrong to want to hold back this information, because it’ll hurt her?”

“I don’t know,” Ran said softly. “You have good intentions, but... well, I didn’t hide who you were, just because it would hurt you.”

“I know,” Shinichi sighed.

“But that was different,” Ran continued. “It was something that was coming back anyway, something that was hurting you more because you didn’t know it that it would when you did. Akako-chan... if her brother has become someone who’ll only hurt her... more than he already has, anyway... perhaps it’s better to let her keep her memories of him as they are.”

“From the way she talks about ‘im, he’s as dead as her parents ta her anyways,” Kazuha said, leaning over the couch, lifting up a reluctant Hattori so he could sit on top of it. “So ya know where he is?”

“I’ve seen the name Kurosawa before,” Shinichi said. “Haibara knows too, I think. I just... I feel bad about keeping it from her. She just seems to be on the edge as it is...”

“Well, her rememberin’ was way harder than yours, though _she_ didn’t conk out,” Hattori said pointedly. Shinichi made a face at him. “But findin’ out that yer a horrible murderer is kinda harder than findin’ out yer a shrunken teen, ya know?”

“It’s taken her a lot of strength to take these memories,” Ran said sympathetically. “I think... later, someday when her heart is calmer, you could tell her. For now... best not to push it.”

“But tomorrow night they’re gonna strike against the Syndicate! Ain’t it great?” Kazuha asked cheerily. “You two’ll be back ta normal in no time!”

“And this time, I owe _you_ a couple of lumps,” Ran said, glaring at Shinichi.

“C-come again?” Shinichi said, her glare suddenly making him nervous.

“Well, now that you have your memories back,” she said menacingly, “you’ll remember at Sonoko’s family villa, with the mad-axe murderer...”

Shinichi gulped, going bright red.

“... and Otou-san’s Judo club reunion...”

Shinichi went even redder. “Th-that was...”

“What happened?” Hattori asked curiously.

“N-nothing you need to know about!” Shinichi said quickly. Hattori grinned evilly. Shinichi looked from his evil grin to Ran’s. _I’m so dead..._


	84. Ground Zero

“Time is running out,” Ushi snarled quietly, looking through the sniper scope at the Kudo home. “We have two days.”

“Everyone is in position,” Gin reported.

“Go.”

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“What’s that?” Miwako wondered.

“What?” Shiratori asked. Miwako waved her hand at him to be quiet.

“That!”

A second later, they both heard it; the screeching of tires and bursts of gunfire. A moment later, two cars squealed around the corner, inhabitants firing heavily on each other. One overturned at the end of the street. Miwako pulled her car into gear, braking in the middle of the road, forcing the other car to brake so hard that they crashed into the other.

“Dammit! Can we get some help out here?” Shiratori demanded into his radio. They rushed over to the overturned cars, where a number of the passengers were lying on the ground clutching various injuries and the upright were engaging in violent fistfights.

As the police were distracted by the warring gangs, a number of dark figures slipped over the Kudo’s wall from the adjoining property.

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“Are you sure you can do this, Kuroba?”

“We have to. Look, they’re coming.”

“Then we’re coming with you.”

“Will they really fall for this?”

“Watch and learn.”

“Have fun stormin’ the Syndicate...”

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“The Kudo house is empty,” Chianti said, opening another doorway. “Could they have known we were coming?”

“Impossible,” Red Rum growled.

“Don’t worry, they didn’t. They were simply moved to one location when the FBI strike was brought forward.”

All turned, in some cases in total shock, as Vermouth sauntered into the room, pulling off a police officer’s uniform to reveal a black tank top and black jeans underneath. “Evening, all.”

“You! How—?!” Chianti shrieked, raising her gun at Vermouth. A single shot was fired. Vermouth remained smiling.

Slowly, Chianti dropped to the floor, her rifle falling from her limp grasp. Red Rum pocketed his gun again, without his face moving a muscle. Kir and Vodka stared in shock.

“I will take no insubordination, not at this point,” he growled. “Vermouth, my dear, where have you been?”

“Away,” she sighed. “In any case... they are all next door, if you’re interested.”

“You may wander too much, my dear,” Red Rum said with a smile, “but you always come up trumps...”

Kir stared from Chianti’s dead body to Vermouth’s living one. “What... how...?”

“I see,” Gin said quietly. “So she is like Him. That’s why she’s His favourite...”

“Aniki?” Vodka asked quietly.

“Say nothing,” Gin said quietly. Kir could understand why. This was, she had to admit, the first time that she had seen the Organization’s shadowy leader. He didn’t look too threatening; he wasn’t particularly tall or muscular, and most of his face was concealed under a thick blonde beard and moustache aside from his pale blue, glimmering eyes. She had now realized why even Gin deferred to him. She hadn’t even seen him draw the gun, he had been so fast. And so ruthless. But Vermouth...

 _Like him_. She had survived a bullet in the head without a visible mark. Did that mean that mean that he, too, could—?

“There,” Vermouth said, running for the wall between the Kudo’s and the Kuroba’s.

Then something red flashed in the moonlight, as the Kaitou Kid burst from the house in a shower of fireworks.

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“Go!”

Jodie burst through the last doorway, gun raised. But this room, too, was empty.

“What the hell’s going on?” she asked aloud. “This is their leader’s house! But—”

“It’s empty,” James said, glancing around. “He knew we were coming...”

“How?!” Jodie demanded. “It’ll take us at least a couple of hours to make it back to Beika... Kami, in that time, if they’ve...” then she looked around. “Hey, where’s Shuu?”

“Perhaps he too sensed something wrong and left already,” James said, striding towards the front door while cops began searching the house. “Which makes me even more certain that things may well have gone horribly wrong...”

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“Bring him down!” Ushi demanded, firing at the Kid as he took to the skies, the red jewel shining in his grasp. Vodka and Kir complied, without much success. The thief was dodging too skilfully. Gin and Eta held back, watching.

“The jewel…” Eta began, watching the red light. Though she would love nothing more than to smash the cursed thing, she could not risk hitting Kaito… but Ushi cut her off.

“That’s a fake,” he snarled. “There’s a red flashlight up his sleeve.”

“I see,” Gin said quietly, and began shooting, but Kid was already almost out of sight. There was a blinding flash that obscured their sight, and when it faded Kid was gone and the lab next door in darkness.

Eta felt her heart freeze. She’d _seen_ that it was a fake, obviously, but she’d prayed that Ushi would fall for it anyway; prayed that he’d follow Kaito _away_ from them…

“It is a blind, making us think that they are moving the Pandora,” Ushi growled. “It must still be in there somewhere. Come on...”

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“Did they buy it?” Ai muttered, rapidly decanting some liquid into the large cooking pot that was the only receptacle at hand large enough to submerge the jewel and take boiling liquid, and was now three-quarters full.

“Probably not. Nobody would be dim enough to buy a blind like that, certainly not the likes of Gin and Ushi,” Shinichi said, scurrying up the stairs. “Damn, I wish we’d had time to take a temporary antidote. Even a couple of hours would have done it...”

“Be careful!” Yukiko cried after him. She and Agasa were helping Ai brew a large quantity of the antidote, the jewel lying on the counter next to the pot. Shinichi closed the door behind him, listening for Agasa pushing a cabinet in front of it, and ran upstairs, where Hattori was grimly watching through an upstairs window.

“Hakuba, Kuroba an’ Koizumi all got out safe,” he muttered. “They’re meetin’ up with Nakamori-keibu an’ he’s gonna use Kid as a pretext ta bring cops back here, right?”

“Yeah,” Shinichi said, “but where’s—?”

He got his answer as someone started banging into the door. Aoko and Ran darted downstairs to block it.

“No!” Yuusaku yelled, diving to knock the girls out of the way just as gunfire ripped into the blocked door, knocking it away.

“On your knees!” a voice yelled. Shinichi and Heiji ducked down behind a couch on the upper floor, as did Kazuha, who hadn’t reached the stairs yet, but Ran, Aoko and Yuusaku were all still out in the open, and had no choice but to raise their hands and drop to their knees as the five black figures strode in, guns raised.

Shinichi saw Kir, face blank, following Vermouth (several faces drained of color at the sight of her, but Shinichi had been half-expecting it ever since his memories had returned), flanking a man on one side who had Gin and Vodka on his other. This man, Shinichi knew, had to be Red Rum—Ushi.

He stood shorter than Gin and Vodka, yet he still somehow seemed to tower over all of them. His colouring was similar to Vermouth’s—Eta’s; short blond hair, moustache and beard and cold, pale blue eyes, remorselessly regarding the three before him.

“Gin, Vodka, search upstairs,” he said. “Vermouth, with me. Kir, dispose of them.”

Kir regarded the three people on their knees in front of her. Then she shot Red Rum’s gun out of his hand, rolling away as Gin and Vodka instantly fired on her. Yuusaku, Ran and Aoko quickly got out of the line of fire. Kazuha dropped from the upper balcony onto Gin’s good arm, causing him to drop his gun.

“This is for what ya did ta Heiji!” she yelled angrily, flipping him, though he recovered quickly and slipped out of her grasp, his movements made somewhat awkward by the fact that his right arm was still in a sling, wrapped tight against his chest by his coat. Red Rum backed away, pulling another gun out of his pocket. Vermouth and Kir started circling each other, firing at each other. Vodka made to shoot at Kazuha, but Aoko and Ran lunged, Aoko knocking his gun aside with a mop that she had located somewhere while Ran karate-chopped him from the other side; he could not dodge both, losing his gun while avoiding Ran’s knockout blow.

“Hurry!” Shinichi hissed to Hattori, trying to get to the stairs, praying to not be noticed by the shooters. Despite having two opponents apiece, Gin and Vodka were holding their own. Kir fell with a scream as one of Vermouth’s shots hit her, barely avoiding another fatal shot from Red Rum and ducking behind the couch.

Vodka caught Yuusaku in a headlock, but his grip weakened long enough for the writer to escape when Aoko cracked him hard across the skull with the handle of the mop. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to do him any real damage; he immediately kicked out and hit Aoko in the gut. She doubled up, gasping in pain, but when he made to hit her again Kazuha deflected his fist and flipped him away from the injured girl.

Vermouth gasped, her attention distracted when Aoko collapsed, staring at her pained face. Kir took the opportunity to shoot _her_ gun away, before ducking back behind a bookcase and panting in pain as she dug in her pocket for more rounds.

“Where are they, where are they?” Shinichi muttered feverishly, flipping one-handedly through the drawers on Agasa-Hakase’s desk upstairs.

“Whatcha lookin’ fer?” Hattori asked, opening another drawer.

“The watch! He was repairing it...”

Ran leapt, aiming one of her head-height kicks at Gin, but he ducked, parrying and knocking her to the floor. Red Rum aimed at her, but Kogoro, who had been standing guard downstairs with Eri but had evidently been drawn upstairs by the gunfire, roared in anger and grabbed him, throwing the man. Red Rum rapidly rolled to his feet, apparently undamaged, but he lost his grip on his gun, and now he too had two opponents, as Gin and Vodka did. Aoko had recovered her wind and swung at Vodka again, who had to dodge that while boxing with Yuusaku, though unfortunately, the stockier Raven seemed to have the upper hand. Gin turned Kazuha’s attempt to dislocate his arm on her, throwing her into Ran as she struggled to her feet, both girls collapsing to the floor.

“He did that with one hand! What th’ hell _is_ that bastard?!” Hattori yelped, running for the stairs.

“Hattori, _no_! Shinichi yelled, about to run after him before spotting his quarry at the back of the bottom drawer. He made to chase after Hattori again, but someone who had climbed in the back window threw him back before he got into the line of fire, running for the balcony.

Gin, taking advantage of the girls’ moment off-balance, dove for Red Rum’s discarded gun, aiming it at the girls. Hattori let out a scream of rage as he ran down the stairs, and Gin turned, shooting at him instead. Hattori was only saved when Hakuba, who had come bursting through the door, tackled him and rolled. The bullets scraped across his back close enough to tear his coat, protecting Hattori rather like Ran had once protected Ai from Vermouth, who was dodging bullets as she attempted to get close to Kir. The intruder grabbed the balcony and leapt over.

“Kuroba’s bringing the cops, they’ll be here soon!” Akako screamed, following Hakuba into the room, distracting Gin from the dark shape. He changed his aim to her, then froze for a moment, his cold green eyes widening.

That moment was all Akai needed to blow his fucking head off.

“That’s from my Koishii, Koibito,” he growled.

 “No!” Red Rum roared as Gin fell to the ground, his silver hair turning bright red. Akai just stared remorselessly down. Akako ran past, not noticing, leaping over and around prone and fighting figures in her desperation to reach Hakuba as he struggled upright, still trying to pull Hattori out of the way.

 “Aniki!” Vodka cried, then slumped as Shinichi shot him with the sought-after tranquilizer watch. Red Rum bellowed angrily, an almost inhuman sound, and flung Eri hard, suddenly possessed with a powerful fury. Kogoro ran to catch her, but even so the force of the throw slammed him hard into the wall, where he collapsed, gasping, unable to pull himself to his feet. Ran shrieked and ran to her fallen parents’ aid. Kazuha was also trying to reach Hattori and Aoko was knocked aside as Red Rum ran for the stairs. Vermouth ran after him, ignoring Kir’s occasional, far off-target bullets; the CIA agent had to be losing blood fast, affecting her aim.

“No, nobody’s guarding—” Yuusaku yelled, trying to get in their way, but without breaking his run, Red Rum pushed him back, then grabbed the bookcase sitting next to the staircase and tipped it over, in front of the doorway. Vermouth just slipped in front of him towards the stairs, so they alone got down the stairs before the bookcase collapsed on top of Yuusaku.

“Tou-san!” Shinichi yelled as Yuusaku have a terrible scream of pain, accompanied by a horrific _crunch_ as something broke under the heavy wooden bookcase. The shrunken detective flung himself down the stairs two at a time, careless as to whether he fell or not, to where Kazuha, Hattori and Hakuba were all trying to pull Yuusaku out from under the heavy bookcase, which had crushed one of his legs at a horrible angle.

“Empty the damn thing so we can move it!” Akai growled. The bookcase was packed so tightly with books that few had fallen out in the collapse.

“We don’t have time for that, they’re in the basement!” Shinichi cried, climbing up onto the bookcase, praying his negligible weight would cause his father no further discomfort, and slid through the tiny opening at the top, pelting down the stairs towards the lab.

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Hidemi struggled to maintain consciousness—she’d sustained a serious injury, she knew, and she’d lost a lot of blood—but...

“They can’t die,” she croaked.

“Oh Kami,” the green-eyed girl who’d appeared just before Gin’s death gasped. “Somebody help me with her! She’s been shot!”

“Who are... wait a minute...” the girl with the mop gasped. “Aren’t you Mizunashi Rena? The announcer?”

“Hondo Hidemi,” she muttered, clutching her wounds. “CIA.”

“She’s Eisuke-kun’s sister!” Mori Ran cried. She and her mother were trying to help her father to his feet as the blond boy and Akai heaved at the bookcase while the little dark-skinned boy chucked books aside. “Help her out of here, we have to get her to safety—don’t you dare die, Hidemi-san, it would absolutely destroy Eisuke-kun...”

“Ei-chan...” Hidemi muttered, grabbing the mop girl’s sleeve. “You can’t... Vermouth and Him... they can’t die... they’ll kill...”

“We know, we’ve planned for it,” the girl said soothingly. Then she glanced up at the door, her face instantly breaking into relief.

“They’re in the basement!” she cried. “Ai-chan and Yukiko-chan and Agasa-Hakase... oh Kami, two of them went down there and Kudo-kun went after them...”

“On it,” someone said, then a white flash was all Hidemi saw, her vision fading out as sirens drew nearer...


	85. The Silver Bullet

“Oh Kami,” Yukiko kept muttering, as screams and gunfire echoed upstairs.

“Ignore it, just watch the color of that,” Ai muttered, dripping more antidote into the now mostly-full pot. “Kami, it takes me long enough to make just a capsule’s worth. We’re running out of time...”

“Ai-kun!” Agasa suddenly cried, waving the Pandora that he had been examining closely for some minutes. “There’s a problem!”

Whatever he had been about to say, however, was lost; there was a horrible scream of pain and a nasty _thumpcrack_ at the top of the stairs.

“That was Yuu-chan!” Yukiko screamed, starting for the doors but then backing protectively in front of Ai as someone thumped into it. They thumped again, the desk refusing to budge, before a blast of gunfire burst through the door, creating a weakened spot that someone thrust their fist through and then used to push the desk aside with one hand. Agasa tossed the jewel to Yukiko, standing protectively in front of her and Ai.

“Dunk it!” he cried. “Quick—AARGH!”

“HAKASE!” Ai screamed as he collapsed with a gut full of lead. Yukiko grabbed Ai with shaking but firm hands as she started forwards, trying instead to pull her over to the pot full of antidote.

The man in the doorway was a terrifying sight to behold, his icy eyes blazing, his fists bloody, the sight made no less terrifying by the fact that Vermouth was right behind him with an oddly tense face. Ai knew that this had to be Red Rum, the Organization’s elusive boss; the immortal Ushi.

“ **The Star!** ” he roared, eyes widening and the fire in them going supernova at the sight of his long-lost jewel, shooting at Yukiko. She screamed in fear, diving out of the line of fire, dropping Ai who was below it anyway—away from the pot.

“Yukiko-san!” Ai screamed, reaching out her hands, asking for the jewel. Yukiko made to toss it to her, but it was intercepted in midair by Red Rum, who kicked at Ai. She cried out in pain as she was tossed like a football, crashing into the pot, which spilled, clear blue antidote flowing across the floor.

“No... the antidote...” Agasa croaked. He was still alive, but he was so pale, so much red liquid pooling around him...

“Kaa-san! Hakase! Haibara!”

Kudo burst into the room, blazing with fury, his darker blue eyes full of just as much fire as Ushi and only growing stronger as he took in Agasa-Hakase, lying in a pool of blood, and his mother trying to crawl over to Ai without getting shot.

“ **The Star!** ” Red Rum cried, raising the jewel triumphantly, reverting to English in his joy. “ **After so long... after so, so long...** ”

“Sharon-chan—” Yukiko cried desperately, slipping on the antidote as she stood protectively before Ai. The little scientist couldn’t stand—there was an icy pain in her chest which surely promised broken ribs—but she tried to climb to her feet as Red Rum turned his gun on Yukiko. She paled and began to tremble but did not move from in front of Ai.

 _Kami, no, nobody else, please..._ Ai gasped, trying to stand up, blinded by pain. A Bunsen burner, no longer lit due to its cord snapping in midair but still burning hot, slammed into Red Rum’s cheek. He yelped in pain as the hot metal burned him, raising his gun on Kudo.

“No!”

To Ai’s shock, it was Vermouth who threw herself in front of Kudo, taking the bullet. She remained standing even though she bent slightly over her injured gut.

“ **Eta, what are you doing?** ” Red Rum said in shock, raising the jewel. “ **We have it now...** ”

“Guess again, Johnny.”

Kid leaned against the doorway, holding up the Pandora. Red Rum stared at the jewel in his hand. Eta suddenly laughed.

“You don’t fool us!” Ushi sneered, remembering to return to Japanese though staring at Eta as though she were insane. “We saw the red flashlight in your sleeve—”

“I meant you to,” Kid said, snapping his fingers. The jewel in Red Rum’s hands exploded in a puff of smoke. With a roar of rage, he raised his gun on Kid, but the thief shot it away with his card gun, lightning fast, predicting the immortal’s rage. He ran towards Ushi, tossing the jewel almost imperceptibly to Kudo. “Destroy it!” he cried, firing again on Red Rum to distract him. Eta had tipped her head to the side as the jewel passed her, falling silent, as if listening to somebody.

“The antidote—” Kudo cried, falling to his knees, staring desperately at the spilled liquid, the colour diluted to almost clear as it spread across the floor.

“Here,” Vermouth said, her voice odd, gentle, soft. She took the Pandora from Kudo, kneeling, her free hand going to her stomach wound as blood dripped down her chin. Before Kudo could protest, she rolled the Pandora across the ground, through the spilled antidote. It began smoking as soon as it touched the liquid, diminishing.

“ **Damn you, Eta**!” Red Rum cried angrily, ducking and weaving to avoid Kaito’s cards, fast enough to avoid them, nimble enough to draw closer to them…. “ **You betray me now?!** ”

“Hold it!” Kaito yelled, trying to get between Red Rum and the others, kicking at him, but Red Rum struck out, and Kaito’s leg broke with a horrible _snap_. He fell, screaming in pain, his white trouser leg instantly staining red.

“Kaito!” Aoko screamed. She and Ran came running down the stairs. Aoko tried to climb the furniture and smashed door fragments that Red Rum had left behind him, desperate to reach Kaito. Ran motioned at her to help her move the desk aside, yelling angrily at Red Rum, while he stalked towards the smoking jewel. Yukiko picked up Ai, crawling away, crouching protectively in front of Kudo as he rolled the jewel through the spilled antidote. Eta watched, nodding and smiling a little dreamily. It was still smoking, shrinking...

Red Rum suddenly tripped, yelling in surprise and anger; Agasa had grabbed his leg. As he fell, before he could catch himself, Vermouth grabbed his shoulders, refusing to let him climb to his feet, the one person in the room with the strength to restrain him.

“ **It’s over, Ushi,** ” she said, her voice trembling. “ **It is long past time that we slept. Long past time that we joined the ancestors in the stars...** ”

“ **No!** ” Red Rum screamed, struggling furiously but somehow seeming disinclined to hurt her further. “ **It cannot end now!** ”

“The cops have gotten everyone else out!” Hakuba yelled, as he and Akai ran downstairs, helping Ran and Aoko shift furniture to reach them. “Hurry—”

“Kudo! The jewel!” Kaito yelled, pulling himself upright though he was pale and unsteady, raising his gun. “Throw it here!”

“Here!” Kudo cried, raising the red stone. The clear shell had burned away completely, leaving only the small red core, almost seeming to pulse. Eta and Ushi froze, staring entranced at it as he tossed it through the air.

“ **No**!” Red Rum screamed, lurching upwards, reaching for it. Aoko ran forwards, almost visibly ablaze with a fury unseen even at Kid heists, and whacked it out of his reach with her mop.

Red Rum and Vermouth both gasped in pain as the jewel cracked when the mop struck it, and again when the jewel fell to the ground, at Ran’s feet where she crouched, pausing next to Agasa.

“Ran!” Kudo screamed, pulling towards her even as Yukiko pulled him towards the door, taking advantage of Ushi and Eta’s distraction to _run_.

“Oneechan!” Ai gasped in pain as Ran drew her fist back, kneeling over the jewel. She felt sure that it could not go that easily...

But it did. Boy, did it ever.

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Yukiko began running for the door the second the Pandora left Shinichi’s hand, tugging at his arm to get him to follow, carrying Ai. Kaito was already pulling himself to his feet with Aoko’s aid, Hakuba and Akai bending to pull Agasa up as Ran drew her fist back.

“Punch and run!” he screamed, pulling out of his mother’s grip, determined not to leave without Ran. Besides, he couldn’t help watching that jewel any more than Eta and Ushi could. He had felt it pulsing in his hand, like a heart, warm, burning, fragile...

“ **NOOOO!** ” Ushi screamed, pulling himself to his feet as Agasa was pulled away, up the stairs.

Ran slammed her fist down onto the glowing red stone. For a moment, time seemed suspended, her fist glowing a bright, brilliant white. Then it made impact and the jewel shattered, twinkling red shards flying into the air in something that was almost too elegant to be called destruction.

Aoko hauled Kaito to his feet, he leaning on her as the pair backed towards the stairs after Agasa, Akai and Hakuba. Shinichi pushed his mother towards the door and grabbed Ran’s arm as the falling shards continued to crumble and shatter, glancing back where Eta and Ushi lay. For a moment, he was grasped by the crazy urge to reach for them, too. Ushi was moaning as if in physical pain, but Eta was silent. She raised her head to stare at the four of them—him, Ran, Aoko and Kaito. Then she smiled.

“I am so proud of you all,” Eta whispered, a tear running down her cheek. “ _Run_.”

A second later, as Shinichi’s nose registered the smell of gas, he realized why. He and Ran were halfway up the stairs when the first explosion happened.

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“ **Eta... why...?** ” Ushi groaned as his flesh burned. The shards of the dying Pandora had ignited the gas released from the Bunsen burner that Shinichi had broken with his kick. Eta lay with him, feeling her own flesh sear in the heat; soon, the fire would reach the gas taps for the Bunsen burners, then...

“ **It is time,** ” she whispered, reaching for him.

“ **It burns,** ” he gasped, clutching her hand. She smiled even as more tears poured down her cheeks, some running over the bridge of her nose to reach the floor. Even now, he didn’t let go of her; even now, she couldn’t let go of him. Never.

“ **You’re not burning, Ushi,** ” she whispered, leaning over to be closer to him. “ **You’re shining**.” She closed her eyes as she pressed her lips to his, the eternal kiss, the last kiss, the sweetest kiss since their very first, ten thousand years ago...

The fire reached the gas pipes.

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Shinichi and Ran had barely made it outside the lab when they were thrown forwards by the force of the blast. The fire spread through the gas pipes, igniting the rest of the building and the rest of its, as Agasa frequently demonstrated, highly flammable materials, making the entire building explode.

Ran wrapped her arms around him—a little too tight, perhaps, and he winced as his right shoulder twinged, but it was better than being thrown as far as his lighter frame could fly—as she rolled forwards, curling into a little ball around him. Shinichi could only cling to her, eyes shut tight, waiting for things to be still so he could get off.

After a small eternity, Ran stopped rolling. They both lay there for a moment, breathing heavily, occasionally coughing in the smoky air, unknowing what had happened to the others but too frozen to move to find out...

“Ran-chan? Ran-chan!”

“Oi, Kudo!”

It was Hattori and Kazuha, their voices like a stimulant breaking through the numbing ringing in his ears. Ran gradually uncurled, still holding Shinichi on her lap. He pulled away from her a little and glanced around wildly, desperate to know what had happened to the others. Haibara, his mother, Akai, Hakuba, Agasa, Kami above, Agasa...

All he could see of the mad inventor was his feet as Akai helped a couple of paramedics lift him into an ambulance that had magically appeared in the road. Looking around Agasa’s yard, he saw his mother, who must have been flung like Ran, stagger to her feet, cradling a limp Ai, dazedly trying to pat down her curly blonde hair, which had been blown and fizzed into some kind of supernova around her head by the heat. Hakuba was near the gate, helping Aoko lift Kuroba to his feet; his entire right trouser leg was now scarlet, and he was also coughing up a disturbing amount of blood. Akako was running towards them, pulling away from insistently questioning police officers.

“Yer Oyaji an’ the CIA neechan’ve already been taken ta hospital,” Hattori informed him as he and Kazuha reached them, Ran setting Shinichi on his feet as Kazuha pulled her upright, “Occhan an’ his wife too. They took off Gin’s body as well, an’ they found another one in yer house. Vodka’s been cuffed... there goes Hakase...”

“Another couple of ambulances are on their way,” Nakamori-keibu reassured them, striding towards them, one arm raised to protect himself from the heat and gesturing to them to move away with the other. “Kuroba-kun, you twit, try and look a little _less_ like the Kid so I don’t have to arrest you, all right?”

“This do?” Kuroba said with a cheeky grin as his tie, coat, cape, hat and monocle all vanished, though blood was still dribbling down his chin.

“You recracked your ribs, you fool,” Hakuba said dryly, leading him over to sit down against the wall. Akako knelt next to him and Aoko, placing her hand over the various burns on their faces, arms and legs in turn.

Ran picked Shinichi up, wandering over to join them. Her path was a little wobbly too, and she looked as Shinichi felt. Any thoughts of the indignity of it faded as Shinichi clung to her, feeling shaken to his core as what had just happened slowly replayed in his head. Could it really be... over...?

Yukiko thumped down near Aoko with an unusual lack of grace or energy, still cradling Ai, who was clutching her ribs, face contorted in pain. Her pain seemed to fade somewhat as Akako placed a tender hand on her forehead.

“I cannot heal,” she said softly, “but I can stop the pain.” Ran collapsed between Aoko and Yukiko, Shinichi still in her lap, the uninjured Hattori and Kazuha standing nearby, watching firemen fight to control the blaze and prevent it from spreading to the Kudo’s house. Shinichi sighed in relief as the sting of his burns faded when Akako moved her hands over them.

“That really is impressive, Akako-san,” Hakuba said quietly, a strange smile on his face as he watched her work.

“It is only a small step to make up for the lives that I took,” Akako said sadly.

“But that you’re willing to walk that path at all is a very noble thing,” Hakuba replied, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She placed her free hand tentatively over his, one still glowing softly as it numbed burns and bruises.

“He’s right,” Shinichi croaked, finding his voice as he stared at the dancing light of the burning lab. “I don’t... condone murder. But you feel remorse... you want to atone... that’s more than many I meet. It’s more than many of them… If you can do anything now, Koi—Kurosawa-san... it’s to do a little good in the world.”

“And you did a lot by telling us how to destroy that damn thing,” Kaito said, pulling up something of his cheeky, cheery grin. “That was a hell of a punch, Mori-san. High-five, but be gentle, I beg of you.” Ran giggled a little giddily as she gently slapped Kaito’s palm.

“It felt so brittle,” she said, letting her arm fall to the ground heavily. “Like a brick.”

“We’ll take yer word fer it,” Hattori snorted, though Kazuha was nodding in what seemed to be genuine agreement.

“Were they still in there?” Akai asked, striding over, following an odd, invisible path which indicated the fringe where the heat radiating from the blaze became intolerable. They barely noticed it any more.

“Eta and Ushi? Yeah,” Shinichi said softly, still watching the fire as if hypnotized. “They can’t survive it now.” Silent tears were streaming down Yukiko’s face, cutting clean tracks in the ash and grime which surely coated them all now. Ran and Aoko too seemed on the verge of tears.

“Wow... look,” Aoko said quietly, wiping her eyes and pointing up at the sky. They all followed her gaze.

The light of the blaze had obliterated almost all of the stars. All that was visible was one large shining star, almost directly over them.

“Y’know,” Hattori said quietly, “When I first found yer message, when I was tryin’ ta figure out what th’ hell Eta was, one a’ the things I thought it mighta have somethin’ ta do with was Eta Carinae. It’s a star—well, two, really. It’s a super-luminous hypergiant, a luminous blue variable star.”

 “I’ve read about Eta Carinae,” Kaito said quietly. “It’s slowly merging over millions of years...”

“Two blue stars, merging...” Shinichi said softly.

They all sat there in silence, faces lit by the flickering light of the burning laboratory, waiting for the ambulances, staring up at the glowing double star. It brightened and dimmed, almost as though it were winking at them.


	86. New Dawn

“I am getting so sick of waking up like this,” Shinichi commented to nobody, staring at the white ceiling.

“Here, here.”

Shinichi turned his head to look at the bed next to him, a movement slightly restricted by bandages wrapped tightly around some burn on his neck. Hattori was lying on the bed next to him, little arms folded under his head, staring at the beds across from theirs. The Detective of the West was also sporting wraps and bandages (with cartoon dinosaurs on them, to his visible irritation) around random burns, though no sling. Shinichi followed his gaze to see Ran and Kazuha sitting up in bed across from them, chatting casually, sporting their own burn wraps and a few bruises peeking out from under other bandages (plain white).

“Oh, you’re awake!” Kazuha said, noticing him. Ran turned her head to him and grinned happily. Both of them and Hattori looked a little giddy; Shinichi felt pretty light-headed himself. It could have been the enormity of what had transpired at Agasa’s, the relief of feeling safe for the first time in _years_ , or maybe some morphine had been making the rounds.

“They insisted on keeping us all overnight,” Ran explained. “Most of us will be leaving today, I suppose, although I’m not sure where everyone can go. We’ll probably be going to Okaa-san’s... Well, Okaa-san and I will, anyway. Otou-san cracked a couple of vertebrae when he hit the wall, and he’s going to be here a while.”

“Yer parents an’ her parents are across th’ hall,” Kazuha said, ticking them off on her fingers, which danced a little whenever she raised them. “Kuroba’s upstairs with his mother. Hakuba an’ Aoko-chan are next door with Agasa-Hakase an’ Ai-chan, though they only got light burns like us. Hondo-san’s in her own room... Akako-chan’s uninjured...”

“You tore your wound open, so you’ll be here for a few days, especially since you never got it properly treated in the first place,” Ran said, with a slightly exaggerated remonstrating frown. “Kuroba-kun’s not going anywhere soon either. His leg broke very badly and Hakuba-kun was right, he refractured his ribs. Yuusaku-san’s also going to be in a while, his leg was crushed quite badly and they’re worried it may never heal right... Agasa-Hakase got off lucky. Apparently his, um, padding, meant the bullets didn’t hit anything vital, though he’ll still be bedridden for a while. They nearly made a cheesegrinder out of him, so it’ll be too easy to rip them open and make them larger. Hidemi-san’s less lucky, her injuries are serious but she’s alive... I think Eisuke-kun’s flying back from America to see her. Ai-chan broke several ribs, poor thing, she’ll be in a while as well...”

“Hondo’s coming back?” Shinichi said with interest and slight apprehension. “So...”

“We got ‘em all,” Akai said triumphantly from the doorway. “Red Rum or whoever aside, we caught everyone at every last one of the places we hit. We got the data from Red’s computer, too, so the rest are being rounded up as we speak. Not a lot of the senior members left—Chianti was found dead in your house. Must have been an internal squabble or something, one bullet in the head from close range. Gin’s dead too, I made very, _very_ certain of that. And... we found two bodies in the basement, burnt to skeletons… the handbones had fused…” He frowned, glancing down at his own hands. “We can’t confirm if they’re Vermouth and Red since it’s not like they had dental records or anything, but, well... who else could it be?”

“It’s over...” Shinichi breathed, sinking back into his bed. “It’s really...”

“Indeed it is,” Jodie said happily, limping in and sitting on the foot of Shinichi’s bed. “We got back before dawn this morning to find the burning lab and Shuu going ‘Where the _fuck_ were you?’, but they’re all caught. The highest-rankers that are still alive are Vodka and Schnapps, which bodes well for the trials given how bright Vodka has proven to be and how when we told Schnapps that Red Rum was dead he spilled his guts faster than someone being hung, drawn and quartered...”

“It’s over, Shinichi,” Ran said softly, standing up a little gingerly and walking over to him, sitting next to him, an arm around his little shoulders. “They have APTX data so Ai-chan can make the antidote. You’ll be back to normal soon. It’ll all be all right now. I promise.”

“I thought _I_ was the one who promised that,” Shinichi said with a shaky laugh, but he couldn’t help hugging her back with his good arm, a single crystal tear sliding down his cheek, as all the fear, all the pain, all the suffering, all the fighting, all faded away...

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“ ** _This too shall pass,_** ” Akako said, sitting on the windowsill, staring out at the beautiful day. The sky was blue, without clouds. The sun was shining, not warmly perhaps—it was still February—but brightly, a perfect day. There had, perhaps, been days more perfect than this, but right now it just didn’t feel possible, which was perhaps the essence of a perfect day.

“Come again?” Saguru said, glancing over at her. He had a laptop open on his lap, and had been sifting through thousands of files of Syndicate data, killing time by searching out any files to do with APTX 4869 while Haibara Ai and Agasa Hiroshi still slept the peaceful sleep of those on very heavy painkillers. Aoko had gone upstairs to watch over Kaito and his mother.

“Just something a very wise woman said to me once,” Akako said, still staring out at Tokyo. In the streets below, thousands of people milled around, unknowing of the momentous event that had happened only hours ago... “It... still hurts, you know. Knowing that once, I was like them... but...” she turned to face him, giving him one of her new, beautiful smiles. “I’m part of time again. I can move forward... and my pain can’t. Someday... I will pass it. I know...”

“So many people have been hurt by the Syndicate,” Hakuba said softly, setting the laptop aside and wandering over to sit next to her. “But you’re right... as long as we are alive, we move forward. We may hurt now, but...” he gave her a smile of his own, a genuine one, a rare occurrence. “It will not last, so long as we move forward. And it is easier not to do so alone...”

They sat there for some time talking quietly. The world flowed on.

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“Ran’s all right, thank Kami,” Eri sighed. “I’m just glad you’re _alive_ , Anata... when you passed out...”

“You’re the one who nearly gave _me_ a heart attack when you came flying through the air,” Kogoro grumbled. “I mean... you’re a skinny little thing, if _you_ ’d hit the wall like that...”

“I’m just glad you’re all right...” Eri sighed again, not rising to the bait, leaning against him. Restless and without any serious injury beyond bruises, she’d wandered over to sit next to her husband, who was seriously uncomfortable but couldn’t move his back.

“Would you be that upset to be shot of me?” he joked.

“Yes...” she admitted with a sigh. “Anata...”

“Ran’s going back to yours while the agency is being rebuilt, right?” Kogoro continued, babbling a little nervously. “Dunno if I’ll be out by then...”

“If you are, I hope you come back to mine too,” Eri said. “And stayed. Anata... I decided, last night. I’m...”

“I’m sorry,” Kogoro cut her off. “I was just trying to tell you to get some rest because I was worried about you.... I felt guilty about your injury. I guess... I was a little pigheaded...”

“So was I!” Eri insisted. “I was worse! I knew all that, I was just being... stupid and prideful...”

“You’re not stupid, you’re a lawyer,” Kogoro insisted. “I’m the baka in the marriage, remember?”

“Yeah... that’s what it should be, shouldn’t it?” Eri sighed, suddenly deflating again. “A marriage... but it hasn’t been for... too long, I guess.”

“You really want to get back together?” Kogoro said with the tentative air of one who is certain that it’s too good to be true.

“Always have,” Eri said with a little smile. “I’m ready to endure you.”

“I’ve been waiting to put up with you,” Kogoro grumbled, but with a little smile. Eri leaned over and kissed him, as light and tentative as a first kiss—which, in some respects, it was.

It was a new dawn; a time for new beginnings.

Yukiko opened one eye, glanced over at Yuusaku, who despite not opening his eyes and appearing to be deeply asleep gave her a thumbs-up.

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“No.”

“I have to, Aoko…”

“No.”

“Just once, just to say goodbye…”

“ _No,_ Kaito.”

“I’m not going to steal anything…”

Aoko sighed in exasperation. “No last Kid heists, Kaito…”

“But I told you, it won’t _be_ a heist!” Kaito exclaimed. “Just a show, a bit of a party, fireworks and so on… just to say goodbye. Kid won’t leave without a proper send-off…”

“Kaito…” Aoko sighed.

“I mean it, Aoko,” he said softly. “I’m not asking out of any sort of bedevilment or anything, it’s just… Pandora is gone. There’s no need for Kid anymore. But unless I actually say it, to the world… Kid won’t go. He didn’t go when Tou-san died… I need closure for this, too. I mean…”

“It’s not just Kid you want to say goodbye to, is it?” Aoko asked softly, placing her hand on his, gently intertwining her fingers with his.

“No,” Kaito said quietly, looking down.

“Fine,” Aoko sighed. He glanced up at her in hopeful surprise. “But Kami help me… you are _buying_ the fireworks and whatever else you have planned, all right? You steal so much as a jar of peanut butter…”

“Peanut butter?” Kaito said with a thoughtful look. Aoko was under the worrying impression that she’d just given him _ideas_.

“And when it’s over…” she continued.

“…I shall lock up the outfit, the hanglider and everything to do with Kid,” he swore, raising three fingers in a gesture that was completely lost on Aoko, “and give you the key.”

“It… over…?”

Kaito and Aoko both whipped around at the sound of the weak and muffled voice from the next bed. Chikage had turned her head slightly, her eyes half-open, staring at them.

“K-kaa-san…?” Kaito whispered.

“Kai… to…” she murmured, trying to reach out to him with the arm not in a sling, but wincing as her still-damaged arm protested.

“Don’t move…” he gasped, starting to sit up, but Aoko put a gentle hand on his shoulder, forcing him back down, and walked over to kneel next to Chikage.

“Obachan…” she whispered. “How do you feel?”

“Been… better…” she muttered with a cracked smile. Kaito gave her a teary grin in lieu of being able to reach out to her.

“It’s all over, Obachan,” Aoko promised, patting her hand. “We’re alive… hurt, but alive. We’re all alive, and they’re all in jail. The Pandora is gone. It’s all over now.”

Tears began slipping down Chikage’s cheek, as fast and strong as those pouring down her son’s. Aoko placed one hand on Chikage’s injured one and reached the other one out to Kaito, linking together the fragile remnants of a broken family.

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“Hakase…” Ai murmured, drifting back into consciousness.

“Ai-kun, you’re awake! Agasa said happily.

“You’re all right?” she asked, turning slightly to stare at him, tears welling up. She’d had nightmares that they’d all…

“I’ll have to tell the doctor to take me off that diet,” Agasa laughed, gingerly patting his rotund stomach. “It’ll take more than bullets to get through this!”

Ai started to laugh, but stopped with a wince as her ribs hurt.

“There ought to be a button for a painkiller drip on the control pad for your bed,” Agasa said, indicating a button pad lying on her bedside table. “I insisted that you’d be mature enough to use it responsibly.”

Ai laughed again, careful to not laughed too hard, and pressed the button, sighing in relief as the pain faded a few seconds later. “Is…?”

“Everyone else got out alive,” Agasa reassured her. “The only fatalities that night were Chianti, Gin, Vermouth and Red Rum. And my lab…” he sighed sadly. “They had to let it burn itself out in the end, it didn’t actually stop until after dawn… The insurance covers a rebuild, though, and frankly they’ll probably finish rebuilding my house before the surgeons finish rebuilding my gut…”

Ai giggled again, this time without pain. She felt very light-headed.

“You’re awake, Haibara-san?”

Ai glanced over to the door, a little surprised to be addressed so politely by someone older. She’d gotten used to being brushed aside as a kid.

Hakuba Saguru had entered, laptop in hand and various random wrappings covering burns, followed by the completely uninjured Akako. “Kaito-kun’s mother woke up,” he said with a smile. “It’ll still be quite some months before she can leave, but it’s a start…”

“I’m glad,” Akako said softly. Ai noted that her hand was loosely gripping Hakuba’s. “Kaito-kun does not deserve to lose both parents…”

“When did all of you get on first-name terms?” said Ai in surprise, remembering their tendency to address each other by last names only.

“Saving each others’ lives from the most evil criminal organization ever created has a bonding effect,” Hakuba said with a shrug and a grin.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you grin like that,” Akako said with a wicked grin of her own, looking almost like her old smile. “You almost look like you might have some devilment in you after all.”

“God help me, Kaito-kun’s rubbing off,” Hakuba groaned, pressing a hand over his eyes in a longsuffering yet clearly overdramatic gesture. “Anyway…” he set the laptop down on Ai’s bedside table. “I sifted out all of the APTX data,” he explained. “It’s all on there, if you want to look. If you can figure out the chemical formulae for the antidote, I put the email address for Hakuba labs in the email program on there… I’ll make sure it’s the main priority there, don’t worry.”

“Warn them now, if all of my data’s on here I should have the formula by tonight,” Ai said, grabbing the laptop and clicking away happily.

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“ **Thank you, agent Hondo** ,” the CIA pen-pusher said politely, closing his notes. Hidemi’s superiors had descended within hours of being informed by the FBI that her job was complete, requesting a report. She’d have to find out who had told them and push them off of something high.

“Hondo-san, you have one more visitor,” the nurse said as the American passed her and left the room. Hidemi sighed and nodded as her head fell back heavily on the pillow. She did not feel like giving another report, dammit. She just wanted to rest. She needed to decompress. All of the horrible memories, all of the terrible things that she’d seen or done to defeat the Syndicate, ever since her father’s death… she knew that they were just waiting to crash down on top of her, overwhelming her, and she knew that she had to let them. She had to let go, let everything wash over and past her…

“Oneechan?”

Her mood suddenly changed at that voice. She stared at the door, her breath catching.

Eisuke was standing there, clutching a sports bag. Unlike the pristine CIA officials, who didn’t appear to sleep, he had evidently climbed out of bed to catch the first flight he could. He was wearing tracksuit bottoms, a rumpled t-shirt and loosely tied trainers without socks. His hair was a mess, but his eyes were bright and alert behind his slightly askew glasses.

“Ei-chan…” she whispered.

“Is it true?” he asked, collapsing in the chair next to her bed. “Oneechan… is it true that they’re finished? Are you…”

“It’s all over, Ei-chan,” she said, tears spilling over as she reached out to straighten his glasses. “It’s all…”

“ _Complete the mission… in my place… Don’t give up, Hidemi!_ ”

The tears that she had known would come took hold of her, uncontrollable sobs wracking her body, Eisuke leaned over to hug her, not saying anything but just being there as she hugged him back; brother and sister again for the first time in over ten years, another broken family healing together again…

The world began to heal over.


	87. Rebuilding

“Mother’s finally gone home, thank heavens,” Saguru sighed. He was looking far better-rested than he had in a very long time as he sat in Aoko’s flat with Aoko and Akako, playing Mario Kart again. He was getting better, Aoko had to admit. With any luck, he’d be able to give Kaito a real run for his money once the magician was capable of playing again.

“Which is nice, because I find her disturbingly creepy,” Akako commented, sounding a little irritated.

“And if _you_ find someone creepy…” Saguru deadpanned. Akako “accidentally” nearly hit him over the head with an overzealous swipe of the Wiimote.

“You’ve seen her, Akako-chan?” Aoko asked curiously.

“Saguru-kun kindly offered to let me stay in one of the numerous spare rooms in the Hakuba mansion,” Akako said, “since my own burned when I left it.”

“Burning buildings seem to be contagious,” Aoko said, wrinkling her nose. “Should I be letting you two into my house?”

“Speaking of the homeless, how are Kaito-kun and his mother doing?” Akako asked, waving her Wiimote of Death in Aoko’s direction this time.

“Kaito’s getting out by the end of the month, though he’ll be on crutches for a while afterwards,” Aoko said, perking up a little. “Obachan’s another matter… it’ll be months until she leaves. I think Kaito’ll be staying in one of the rooms over the Blue Parrot until his house is rebuilt, since it’ll take a couple more months.”

“That’s good,” Saguru said, then winced as a red shell hit him. “And that is not.”

“You should hold onto your banana skins, use them as shields rather than tossing them around like the Kaitou Kid in an unusually silly mood!” Akako laughed.

“Hey, it’s nearly sunset,” Aoko noted, staring at the window and pausing the game.

“Indeed… is something happening tonight?” Saguru asked curiously.

“Oh, yes…” Akako remembered. “Isn’t tonight…?”

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“… So Hakuba Labs are workin’ on the stuff Haibara’s sendin’ ‘em, an’ you’ll know when they finish ‘cause that’s the day I walk in full size,” Hattori explained. “‘Course, they won’t let you have any for a bit. Haibara insisted they wait ‘til ya heal ‘cause it did ya enough damage, transformin’ right after gettin’ hurt th’ last time…”

“Fabulous,” Shinichi sighed, prodding his injured shoulder with his good arm. “They’re not letting me out of here until the end of the month, like Kuroba.”

“By the way, I’m going back to school tomorrow,” Ran said, “and I have been warned that the Shonen Tantei-Dan intend to ambush me afterwards and be brought to see you.”

“Oh, yeah…” Shinichi said thoughtfully. In the two days since… _everything_ … he had forgotten entirely about Genta, Mitsuhiko and Ayumi.

“What’re ya gonna tell ‘em?” Hattori asked, echoing Shinichi’s thoughts. “Yer gonna hafta say goodbye, ain’t ya?”

“I guess I’ll feed them a line about returning to America,” Shinichi sighed. “I mean, after everything that’s happened, would it be surprising if my parents insisted on getting me back?”

“Are you going to miss them?” Ran asked softly.

“I’m sure that I’ll see them again if their obsession with detective work continues,” Shinichi said lightly. “Anyway… when you get your catch-up notes, can you lend them to me as well? I mean, I’ve missed about two years of schoolwork, even _I’ll_ be behind…”

“Soon as ya get that antidote, we gotta get back ta Osaka as well,” Kazuha reminded Heiji. “I called yer Otou-san yesterday ta reassure them that we’re all alive, an’ apparently the rumour at school’s that we eloped…” Heiji choked, going even darker.

“Visiting hours are over,” a doctor called while walking past the room.

“Don’t they normally hang around ta boot ya out when visitin’ hours end?” Kazuha asked curiously, watching the doctor hurry past the room.

“Erm, the thing is,” Ran said, red-faced, “the last time they tried that…”

“They know Ran doesn’t leave until she’s good and ready,” Shinichi sniggered.

“Does that say more about my temper or your ability to get yourself in trouble?” Ran shot back. Heiji licked his finger and drew a point on an imaginary scoreboard.

“Shouldn’t we be leavin’, though?” Kazuha asked worriedly.

“Hang around,” Shinichi said, “and open the window while you’re at it.”

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“What are you going to do, Ai-kun?” Agasa asked, watching the girl tap away at the laptop Hakuba had given her.

“I’ve pretty much finished this,” she said. “Hattori-kun will be back to normal in no time, and Kudo-kun as soon as he gets out…”

“And you, Miyano Shiho?”

Ai glanced over in surprise to see Jodie hobbling in with a dark-haired man she faintly remembered seeing at the fight, with piercing golden eyes. “Jodie-sensei… and…?”

“Akai Shuuichi,” he said quietly. “FBI. I once infiltrated the Organization as Hondo-san did, under the name Moroboshi Dai… codenamed Rye.”

Ai gasped at the familiar name.

“ _His name’s Moroboshi Dai. He’s quite high up, he’s got an alcohol codename like you… He’s a little distant, but he’s so…” a blush. “I think I’ll be safe with him. I’ll bring him here to meet you, someday, if I can get clearance to bring him here… but don’t worry, all right?_ ”

“You… were oneechan’s…” Ai whispered, feeling the blood drain from her face.

“I’m sorry,” Akai said, looking down. “It was because they found out about me that Akemi…” he swallowed, looking more emotional than usual. Jodie looked away. “… that they killed her,” he finished quietly. “By the time I found out…”

Ai stared at him, unsure what to think. This was her beloved sister’s boyfriend, but it was his duplicity that…

“No,” she said quietly, remembering her mother’s voice. “They… they always suspected Akemi. I think… you were an excuse, not a reason. They would have found one, sooner or later. I… I don’t think Oneechan would want you to blame yourself, Akai-san…” she looked up at him. “She told me about you. The time you two were together was the happiest I’d ever seen her for… a long time. She didn’t look scared or lonely. You made her happy. I know…”

“I still feel guilty for her, though,” Akai said. “Like I owe her something. That’s why I want to know.” He looked her straight in the eye. “Do you intend to take the antidote?”

“What?” Jodie asked in surprise.

“But I thought you wanted to get back to normal, surely?” Agasa asked, confused.

“I did, once,” Ai said, staring at the chemical calculations unseeingly. “But…”

“You don’t want to take it, do you,” Akai said softly. Ai gave a wry little grin. She imagined that Akemi had told him as much about her as she had told Ai about him… he seemed to know her answers before she gave them.

“I don’t really have anything… or any _one_ … to go back to as Miyano Shiho,” she admitted softly. “Haibara Ai has friends, family, future, a chance to start over… it’s too late for Miyano Shiho. I’ll never forget my sister, but… what good would it do me to go back to that life?”

“You’re going to stay as a child?” Jodie asked in surprise.

“I can understand why, I suppose,” Agasa said thoughtfully. “It’s true… in fact, as Miyano Shiho, you could well be convicted as a member of the Organization. You intend to start over as Haibara Ai?”

“Yeah,” Ai said, then laughed softly. “After all, the Shonen Tantei-Dan ought not to lose both their star members, right?”

“I see…” Jodie said, then smiled. “That’s why we wanted to ask you something, Ai-kun.”

“Yeah?” Ai asked curiously.

“You’re getting out of here before Agasa-Hakase and long before the lab is rebuilt,” Akai explained. “I’m staying in Japan for a while… maybe longer… with Jodie…” his fingers intertwined with her briefly. “Would you like to stay with us until Agasa-Hakase gets out? I just… can’t feel like I can lay Akemi to rest until I see to your safety and happiness, I suppose. She worried about you a lot…”

“Th… thank you,” Ai said, suddenly choked at the thought of her sister. _Oneechan… It’s over now… please, be at peace…_

“Isn’t that wonderful, Ai-kun?” Agasa said, beaming. “You have friends… a loving oneechan… two people who look happy to be your parental figures…” he indicated Akai and the slightly blushing Jodie. “… and I’ll always be your great-uncle, of course.”

Ai gulped again, the choked sensation transforming into tears. Never had she imagined having anyone but her sister, being loved… but the pain was that in finally having friends and family, she had to lose her sister.

“Th… tha…” she gasped, before collapsing into tears entirely. A second later, Jodie sat down next to her, hugging her close.

“Everyone deserves to be loved,” she said softly. “No lost little girl should ever be alone…”

“Wow…” Akai said, staring out of the dark window. “Look.”

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“You’re leaving the CIA, oneesan?” Eisuke said in surprise.

“I can’t do another job like that, Ei-chan,” Hidemi said softly. “I just can’t. I still haven’t made amends with my conscience for this one. Maybe I’ll go back someday, but for now… I liked being a TV presenter, maybe I’ll return to that. Besides…” she clutched his hand. “You’re the only family I have left, Ei-chan. It’s long past time we were together again… as a _family_ …”

“Yeah,” Eisuke said quietly. “Then I can move back to Japan… I can transfer back to Teitan High! I can see my friends again!” He brightened up at that thought, grinning happily.

“I’m sorry you had to leave because of me, Ei-chan,” Hidemi said guiltily.

“It’s all right,” Eisuke said quickly. “I don’t mind. It’s better than you getting killed, after all.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly, and he knew that she was thinking of their father. “I think… he’d be really proud of you, you know. For finishing it. I mean…”

“It wasn’t really me…” Hidemi said uncertainly.

“I got to see Ran-san today,” Eisuke said. “I ran into her in the hallway and we talked. She told me what she’d learned, how much you did, how you helped Akai-san hide… how you fought in the end even though it nearly killed you…”

“It was all or nothing,” Hidemi said with a wry grin. “Fight or die…”

“But still, deceiving them so well, for so long… that was really brave, oneesan!” Eisuke cried. “Don’t pretend that it wasn’t…” He frowned at her. “Do you… feel bad about what you had to do?”

“Of course,” Hidemi said. “I know it was all for the greater good, but… I did terrible things to win Gin’s trust, Ei-chan. Maybe someday… I’ll be able to speak about them. But now, I just can’t…”

“It’s all right, Oneesan,” Eisuke said quietly. “I’m not letting you leave again anytime soon, after all…” he gave her a grin this time, and Hidemi had to laugh.

“Yeah…” she stared out of the window, at the twinkling stars. “It’s over, Otou-san… I kept fighting…”

Then the stars were obliterated by another light.

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“­ _How_ long were you keeping that secret?”

“I thought it the kind of thing that it was better not to broadcast.”

“I am your _wife,_ Yuusaku!”

“And you would have been constantly terrified if I had told you, don’t pretend you wouldn’t have been. I didn’t want you to have to live with that fear too… certainly not Shinichi.” Yuusaku wiped an angry tear out of Yukiko’s eye. He at least looked ashamed of himself, calm though his tone was.

“And Toichi-san?” she demanded.

“He swore me to secrecy,” Yuusaku said with a shrug. “I thought it a little indelicate to bring up after his funeral—‘by the way, he was one of the world’s most wanted criminals’—and then… well, a chance never came up.”

“All right,” Yukiko said, a petulant scowl on her pretty face. “I suppose I can forgive you, since karma maimed you—”

“—Looked more like a bookcase—”

“—and isn’t the irony of that _fun_ ,” Yukiko finished. “But if there are any other secrets that you’re keeping… like a doomsday device in the basement… I want to know _now._ ”

“Speaking of which…” Yuusaku began. Yukiko’s jaw dropped. “Joking!” he laughed. She scowled again and slapped him on the arm.

“ _Yuu-chan!_ ” she complained. He took the return of the “chan” to be a good sign.

“Never mind,” he chuckled. “Look, it’s dark out…”

It was just as Yukiko turned to the window that a burning streak lit the sky.

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“Look, Kaa-san,” Kaito said gently, staring out of the window. “The Pandora.”

The comet streaked across the sky, its light bright enough to obliterate all of the stars. It glowed slightly red—calling for its lost jewel.

“Watch carefully,” Kaito said, raising his card gun. “If that thing drops anything else, so help me I’m going to blast it out of the sky…”

Chikage giggled gently, the sound slightly harsher due to her not-quite-mended ribs fractures. Then they sat in silence, watching the Pandora streak across the sky, streaks of light trailing behind it like dripping tears. Faced with the terrible beauty of something which, ten thousand years ago, had lit such a bloody path, all who looked upon it, broken families mending, lonely children finding love, lovers reunited at last, all shared the same thought:

“Thank _fuck_ that’s over.”


	88. Forwards

“Freedom!” Kaito sang happily, swinging out of the hospital on his crutches. Saguru rolled his eyes. Like he’d kept to his bed like he was supposed to for the past fortnight…

“You’re still going to need those for two weeks,” Aoko reminded him.

“Yeah, I know…” he said with a cheeky grin.

“… So we have until then before all hell breaks loose,” Saguru predicted with a sigh. He and Akako had come to greet him as they came out—and they were holding hands, Kaito was interested to note. He wondered how long _that_ had been going on. Valentine’s Day had been a week ago, a week after Pandora had lit the sky, which Kaito had had to spend in hospital, though a blushing Aoko _had_ supplied him with chocolate, much to his mother’s evident delight. She was healing fairly well, though still not capable of sitting up and still having to take all food in IV form, leaving her disturbingly weak and pale, and Kaito was glad to see her laugh. He’d already promised to visit her every day until she was released, though she had made him swear to go back to school. She had also had a nurse bring her a phone to call Jii and ask that he made sure Kaito stayed with him, stipulating that Kaito was _not_ getting the house to himself now that he and Aoko were together (leading to even deeper matching blushes, before Kaito remembered to inform her that the house had in fact burned down and had not yet been rebuilt).

The Osakan couple—and they _were_ a couple, if the way Kazuha had kissed Hattori (before nearly breaking his arm for “worryin’ me ta death ya ahou”) when he’d turned up full-size was any indication—had left together on Valentine’s Day, the day after the antidote had been discovered. Hattori didn’t seem to be undergoing any negative side-effects, which had been making Kudo antsy as hell until he’d been released this morning, dying to be declared fit enough to take one of the little pills. Kaito wondered if he’d taken it yet. Ran would be leaving school about now, as Aoko, Saguru and Akako just had. She’d probably be in for a happy surprise when she dropped by the Kudo’s…

“The Blue Parrot’s quite near my house, so we can still walk together!” Aoko said happily as Saguru, ever the gentleman, took Kaito’s bag from her. “It’ll be nice to get back to normal, won’t it?”

“Do you _do_ normal?” Saguru asked bluntly.

Kaito made a show of thinking deeply about the question.  “I could try,” he said, “but I might need to google a how-to first.” They all laughed.

“Bocchama, I am so glad to see you safe,” Jii said tearfully as they entered the Blue Parrot. “I am sure… Toichi-sama would be so proud.”

“Yeah,” Kaito said softly. For a moment, some of the shadows flickered across his eyes—his Poker Face hadn’t been quite the same since the heist where Aoko had learned the truth—but then he brightened up again. “Anyway… I’ll tell you all about it later, Jii-chan. I have been challenged!”

“Challenged?” Jii asked curiously.

“We’ve got a fortnight on you,” Akako said with a shadow of her old malicious grin. “This time you are going _down_.”

“Bring it, Rosalina.”

“Just be careful of your ribs when you’re swinging that remote around!”

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“Home sweet home,” Shinichi sighed, wandering into his house. He’d been sorely tempted to just go straight to Hakuba Labs—Hattori had gotten the antidote a week ago, after all, and had reported no ill-effects, despite his worries that Hakuba would have stuck something extra in to poison him—but he needed to drop off his stuff and get a change of clothes, after all.

As it happened, Ai was sitting on the bottom of his staircase, holding up the little pill that represented his life, his salvation, his return to normal…

“When’re you going to take it?” he asked curiously after he had cooled down from his involuntary yelp of glee, taking the pill from her with a triumphant if slightly embarrassed smile.

“I’m not,” she explained. Shinichi stared at her. “I’m staying as Haibara Ai.”

“What?” Shinichi said in surprise. “But I thought… you wanted to…?”

“I never really did want to get back to normal, Kudo-kun,” Ai sighed. “I always… you were forced to take the drug, forced out of your life, forced out of where you belonged against your will. I took the pill to die, Kudo-kun, because Miyano Shiho had nothing else. And I burned, as you did… and like a phoenix, Haibara Ai was born from the flames.” She glanced at him with a tender smile. “Miyano Shiho is long dead, Kudo-kun, just like the rest of her family. I’ll never forget her, but I have a happy, full life ahead of me… and I want to live it. I’m ready to try again. All the way, I only wanted the antidote… for _you_.” Shinichi was frozen to the spot as he listened to her talk, and didn’t move even as she stood up, which made it easy for her to kiss him. On the lips.

“Wh—” he muttered when she stepped back, walking past him.

“It’s time for me to start afresh… in more ways than one,” she said softly. “You two be happy, all right? Oh, and if you hurt oneechan again, I’m going to poison you. For real this time. Be warned.”

Shinichi smiled and laughed as the tiny scientist walked away. “Guess yesterday wasn’t the last time I’ll see the Shonen Tantei-Dan after all…”

“We will stalk you if we deem it necessary,” Ai called distantly.

Shinichi heard a little giggle behind him. “Kaa-san?!” he yelped as he whipped around. “I thought you were at the hospital with Tou-san…”

“I was, but I gave her a lift back when she was released,” she said. “Jodie-chan’s apartment isn’t far away, she insisted that she’d walk back… I left a change of clothes out in your room… better change soon so you can go meet your _other_ girlfriend! You little ladies’ man, you!”

“ _Kaa-san_!” Shinichi groaned. “Haibara’s not—”

“I know, I’m just teasing,” Yukiko giggled as he blushed bright red. “I told you she had a little thing for you, didn’t I? I think she wanted to do that for a long time, though. I’m glad. Now she has all the closure she needs to move on and be happy…”

“Yeah,” Shinichi said, glancing back at the closed door. In his mind’s eye, he saw the sisters walk away, the sad, dark-haired women and the quiet, light-haired scientist, laughing together, freed at last.

Then he ran upstairs. Time to commit himself to the fire and darkness… for the last time ever.

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“… So when should we go shopping?” Sonoko asked.

“How did we get here from finals?” Ran asked curiously.

“Well, remember, Ayako’s wedding is _finally_ happening just before finals!” Sonoko cried. “It got put off for so long because of the whole murder thing… I’ve invited Makoto-san to come with me, of course, but we need outfits! I’m thinking…”

Ran couldn’t help giggling. Somehow, immortal murderers, blazing infernos, the FBI and CIA and the secret to immortality were all washed away by the normality of Sonoko’s babbling about color-coordinating dresses and shoes and easy dismissal of “the whole murder thing”. She suddenly hugged her best friend.

“Ran!” Sonoko shrieked with a laugh a she nearly dropped her bag. “What—?!”

“Just for being you,” Ran sang happily. “Anyway, I can’t come shopping today, but I swear I will soon… mind if I invite a date too?”

“If Kudo-kun’s actually in the country,” Sonoko snorted. “Although I’d like to get my hands on that jerk… vanishing for so long without a word, who does he think he’s—?”

“Ai-chan?” Ran said in surprise, cutting Sonoko off as the little blonde girl rounded the corner.

“Oneechan!” she said in surprise, then flushed for some reason. Then she smiled. “I’ve got to head home, but guess who I saw in Beika?”

“Who?” Sonoko asked, as Ai winked at Ran.

“Shinichi-niichan!” she squealed, in a cute imitation of Ayumi at her most hyper.

“Kudo-kun?!” Sonoko yelped. “That sonnova…”

“He’s finally back, huh?” Ran growled, putting up an angry front for Sonoko’s benefit but winking at Ai. “Then I’ve got something to _say_ to him…”

“You go girl!” Sonoko yelled as Ran ran off, giving Ai a quick high-five as she passed. “Give that jerk what-for!”

 _The antidote…_ she thought, tearing down the familiar streets. _He’s back… he’s really… forever…_

She ran as hard as she could, remembering, oddly, the day that Shinichi had vanished; she had run just as fast through the cold rain, frightened, desperate; but now the sun was beating down on her, warm for February, promising the coming spring, a new start for everyone…

The Kudo mansion loomed up before her; once a symbol of loneliness, a reminder of what she had lost, but now…

She burst through the door in time to see Shinichi coming down the stairs, talking to his mother as he buttoned his shirt, moving his recently-healed shoulder a little gingerly.

“Shinichi…” she gasped, staring at him, drinking him in. He was back… he wouldn’t leave her again… he…

“Oi, oi,” Shinichi complained as he saw tears filling Ran’s eyes. “Ran, it’s all right…”

“I know,” she sobbed with a weak smile. “We promised.” She flung her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder, clutching him as if she would never let go.

And she’d never have to. Ever again.

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In Hakuba Labs, scientists frantically tried to contact their young master to inform him that all of the APTX data that they had been supplied with—the only data on the elixir of immortality in existence!—had been suddenly devoured by a terrible virus which had not only destroyed the data but wiped the Hakuba Labs computers too. Saguru, on receiving the news, seemed unsurprised, only smiling oddly when he set the phone down.

“It seems the Night Baron has struck the Hakuba Labs central computer,” he commented.

“Oh dear,” Kaito said in a carefully blank tone. Aoko swung at his head, which he ducked reflexively.

“It’s better this way,” Akako said airily. “It is nought but a curse…”

“I’m sure whoever hacked into the computer will prove unfortunately untraceable,” was Saguru’s only reply, with a slight smirk, restarting the game.

“Infinite lives is cheating,” Kaito commented.

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Time flowed on.

Even after the lab was rebuilt, Ai never really moved back in with her “great-uncle”. Jodie and Shuu remained together; when they arrived at the party on the fourth of May, they were holding hands. They were also holding the finished paperwork that, through the Witness Protection Program, not only brought Haibara Ai officially into existence but entrusted her to Jodie Saintemillion and Shuuichi Akai as her adoptive parents. They made sure she ate.

Heiji and Kazuha turned up together. Going out didn’t seem to change their attitudes towards each other hugely, if the way they argued as usual was any indication. The only difference was that their arguments now tended to end in make-up kisses rather than huffs. Rather disgustingly passionate make-up kisses.

Akako, unable to get a place of her own as all traces of Koizumi Akako had evaporated and, due to being born into the Organization, all traces of Kurosawa Akako’s existence had vanished long ago, continued staying at the Hakuba Mansion. Jodie was helping her put through the paperwork to make Kuroki Akako a reality through the Witness Protection Program. She had chosen another new surname, so as to divorce herself from her two unhappy pasts, but she had also chosen a name which reminded her of them, so that this time, she would not forget. She knew all too well what foolishness that was. Saguru had been heard to comment on the irony that he only found her bewitching once she had lost her magic.

Sato and Takagi, having been invited as well, arrived sporting matching engagement rings; Shiratori, now very openly dating Kobayashi-sensei, gave them his friendly blessing. Yumi and Chiba were probably high-fiving each other.

Kogoro did end up staying at Eri’s condo with Eri and Ran upon his release. Eri refused to let him sleep on the couch this time. He reregistered the Mori Detective Agency as operating from there, and possibly due to skills he had picked up from Shinichi through Hypnopaedia, was gaining successes of his very own. It probably helped that, with the reunion with his wife, his lazy demeanour dropped and his confidence rose. He also stopped drinking all day, to Ran’s joy, but she never did get him to give up smoking.

Hidemi eventually resigned from the CIA with a very substantial pension, returning to broadcasting under the pseudonym Mizunashi Rena. This led to Eisuke’s return to Japan and Teitan High, and living with his sister had clearly boosted his confidence; he only fell over once at the party, and did no lasting damage.

Sonoko, who hadn’t really noticed that anything huge had happened, never got around to maiming Shinichi because Kyogoku Makoto returned from his travels to complete his high-school education, leaving her too happy to remember that she was ever mad at Shinichi. Or maybe it was the half-price sale at the mall. She’s an easy girl to please.

The Shonen Tantei-Dan were upset by the loss of their star member, but soon bounced back, as young children often do. They were to continue running into murders occasionally, but under the tutelage of their Shinichi-niichan, who on his return to Japan kindly took the kids under his wing, they seemed likely to be Meitantei by middle school.

The three thousand, four hundred and sixty-four members of the Shadow Syndicate arrested worldwide were tried in one hundred and ten countries, and depending on their particular country’s court system, were given between five and ten thousand years. Kaito, whose cast had been removed and thus let loose upon the world, had laughed at that, wondering if he shouldn’t have let them have the Pandora so they could fill their sentences. Aoko just swatted him over the head with a mop. They were spending a lot of time alone together at the Blue Parrot, though Jii said they were planning something, which he found even more worrying.

Insurance premiums paid out enough to rebuild Kaito and Agasa’s houses, as well as Café Poirot, which due to the Mori Detective agency vacating the upper floors expanded substantially. It soon became a popular meeting place for anyone even faintly related with detective work, from cop couples in desperate need of coffee to kids seeking meetings with the Shonen Tantei-Dan. Kaito asked for a few changes to be made to the layout of his house, both to compensate for the loss of a room and to move his mother’s room to the ground floor, which would be easier on her during her rehabilitation. She was expected to make an almost full recovery, but there were still several scars and joint or muscle pains that she would bear for life.

Yuusaku’s leg, unfortunately, had been twisted and broken beyond any hope of a complete recovery. He could walk almost completely normally if he had a cane, though he still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of climbing a staircase in under twenty minutes. Yukiko was patiently helping him practice, though she reminded him that it wouldn’t matter much once they returned to LA, where every building had elevators and their own place was effectively a bungalow. However, both had agreed to stay in Japan for a while, as now that Shinichi and Ran were in a serious relationship they couldn’t really let him have the house all to himself, could they? Unless, of course…

 “Happy Birthday,” Ran giggled, leaning up to kiss Shinichi as people swarmed his house. “Congratulations on turning nineteen…”

“Instead of _nine_ ,” he murmured happily, looping his arms around her to pull her closer. The red orchid necklace scraped his neck as they kissed, his tongue tracing over her warm, full lips…

“Fweet-fwoo!”

“If ya just wanted ta make out, why’d ya invite everyone fer a birthday party?”

“Give him a break. Can you blame him? He can finally make out with his girlfriend without her being called a paedophile, after all…”

“If I give you cake, will you all shut up?” Shinichi asked, throwing murderous looks at the others.

“Cake?” Kaito asked, suddenly perking up. “Chocolate cake?”

“If you choose to give him chocolate you will reap the consequences,” Aoko said warningly.

“Sugar-high Kaito-kun. Oh, the fun we’ll have,” Saguru said dryly. Akako just laughed, following Aoko and Kazuha into the kitchen as Yukiko called for assistance bringing in cake and plates. Ran made to follow them, but Shinichi held her back.

“Hey,” he murmured into her ear, out of the hearing of the others, who were currently bickering with Kaito. Ran shuddered slightly as his warm breath brushed her ear. “I missed White Day, so at the risk of being a couple of months late... Want to go out for dinner?”

“You shouldn’t take me out for White Day when I haven’t even gotten you a birthday present yet,” Ran said softly.

“I know what you can give me, if you’d like,” he said quietly. “Just one word.” Ran hitched in her breath, stiffening at what he was implying. Then she shrieked as a cloud of pink smoke enveloped them.

“Kuroba…” Shinichi growled, then frowned as the smoke cleared and yet he and Ran seemed normal, without odd hair colours, strange clothes or anything written on their faces. “What the…?” he made to raise his hand, whether to check on his hair or clothes he hadn’t decided yet, but then stopped as something tugged on his hand. Linking his pinkie and Ran’s was a red thread.

“Something up, lovebirds?” Kaito said innocently. Shinichi just snorted even as he and Ran blushed.

“Told you that red thread was connected to you,” she said quietly as Shinichi fiddled with the knot on his pinkie. He just grinned, his smile turning triumphant as the string came loose, unrolling into a red flag.

_In the white daylight, the phantom will fade forever._

The various detectives paused, staring at the message while Kaito worked the rest of the party, his progress discernible by occasional puffs of smoke and yells of surprise.

“Who wants cake?” Yukiko sang, bringing in a massive chocolate cake on a platter, the girls following her with stacks of paper plates and forks. The cake had nineteen candles around the edge, with inner rims of eighteen and seventeen candles. “To make up for the birthdays you missed,” she explained softly as Shinichi approached the cake, mockingly raising a hand to shield himself from the heat.

“Did ya disassemble th’ fire alarms before lightin’ that?” Heiji asked, to general laughter.

“Wait! We’ve gotta sing before you blow those candles out!” Kaito cried. The song that erupted a moment later, however, did not sound like the normal birthday well-wishes.

_“Happy Birthday!_

_Now you’re one year older..._

_Happy Birthday!_

_Your life still isn’t over..._

_You did not accomplish much_

_But you didn’t die this year_

_I guess that’s good enough!”_

Kaito ducked and vanished when several fists made for his head.

“Did he just throw his voice into _everyone’s_ mouth?” Shuuichi asked, looking around for the rapidly dodging magician.

“…using everyone’s own voice, yes,” Saguru sighed. Even he laughed when Kaito collapsed, Ai having somehow managed to trip him.

“Only you,” Jodie chuckled as Kaito stared at the girl in pure shock. Ai stared him down with her own perfect Poker Face. The Shonen Tantei-Dan giggled until Ayumi fell over.

“How about the actual song?” Yuusaku suggested.

“Give me a minute to duct tape him,” Aoko growled menacingly to further laughter.

Shinichi finally blew out the candles as those around him—his allies, his dearest friends, his family of both the present and hopefully the future—sang “Happy Birthday”. The smoke faded into the air, seeming as it vanished to take a strange, creepy, brilliant bespectacled little boy with it.


	89. Ashiteru

“Kaito…”

“Shh. Just one minute, Aoko. Literally one minute.”

“It feels windy. Where are we, Tokyo Tower?”

“… Yes.”

“Kaito… it feels _really_ windy.”

“… Three, two… _one_.”

As Kaito removed the blindfold from Aoko’s eyes, she found herself standing on top of the world.

She gasped, wobbling on the thin foothold, literally the very top of Tokyo Tower, but his strong arm was around her waist, holding her steady, and she felt safe; he would never let her fall. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, noting as she did that he was wearing his Kid regalia. So this was it; the last time.

A second later, the sky exploded into light.

All around them, fireworks exploded into the sky; red, blue, yellow, green, a rainbow of colours, turning the night sky into a brilliant spectrum of dazzling fire. Aoko faintly heard screams of shock from down below, and wondered as she stared out over Tokyo at how much of the city she could see, an unbroken vista from her open vantage point. The city was painted with brilliant lights, dazzling her.

“It’s so beautiful,” she whispered. “Was this… what it was like?”

“Every time,” he said softly. Then, putting a finger to his lips to signal to her to be quiet, he brought a microphone to his mouth as a searchlight lit the top of one of the tallest skyscrapers, a good distance away. In the dancing lights, Aoko could faintly make out a white figure.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said quietly into it. In the distance, Aoko could hear the words echoing through the Tokyo Streets from the dummy.

“I must apologize for not sending a notice, but I am here to steal nothing but your attention tonight,” he continued. “It will not be for long, and then you may be on your way again, just as I shall be on mine. I am retiring, you see.” Aoko could imagine the gasps of shock. “I thought it only polite to say goodbye before I left you again. I have the only jewel I shall ever need…” he glanced down at her, his deep blue eyes sparkling in the dark like precious sapphires, “…the most beautiful jewel. Now, it is time for my final disappearing act. You have been a wonderful audience, ladies and gentlemen—thank you, and goodnight!” With that, the white shape—the dummy—fell, seeming to fade away as it did so. Something else, meanwhile, clattered gently into the pavement on the ground.

At the bottom of the building, Hakuba Saguru approached the box. He heard the faint clinking of a cane on the pavement as Yuusaku vanished. Opening the box, he found the diamond inside.

“What?” Akako muttered in surprise. “Wasn’t that destroyed?”

“Yes, but among the items seized from the Syndicate vaults were very large number of jewels that they probably had no right whatsoever to,” Saguru said quietly, turning the jewel around. “It’s a wonderful match. They’ll probably never notice that it’s a separate jewel…”

“And that’s it,” Kaito said softly, his microphone tucked away. “It’s all over. The Kaitou Kid is gone now, gone forever. After all, a gentleman keeps his word.” He flashed a grin at Aoko, before looking out onto the continuing fireworks, his face occasionally thrown into sharp relief by the coloured light.

“Goodbye,” he whispered. “It’s all over, Tou-san. Goodbye…”

Aoko stayed there, just holding him while they watched the fireworks in silence, the colours reflected in the glistening tracks on his cheeks.

“Now…” she said, a while after the fireworks had died, darkness and silence stealing over the city once more.

“I know,” he said softly. “When I get back to the Blue Parrot, I’ll lock everything up. I’ve got a big old chest that’ll do the trick…”

“Not that,” Aoko interrupted him. “How… are we going to get _down_?”

Kaito gave her a wicked grin as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Want to fly with me, pretty lady?”

Aoko planted a soft kiss on his lips as he expanded his hanglider.

“Go on then,” she whispered. “After all, I’m not letting you escape me. Never again.”

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Shinichi chuckled as he and Ran watched the fireworks explode into the sky. Others in the restaurant had frozen with their forks in midair, some even getting up to press their faces against the window like children at a festival. Well, it _was_ an awe-inspiring sight—and, if Kaito kept the words that he was currently projecting around Tokyo’s streets, a practically historic moment.

“I guess this is his late White Day present to Aoko-chan, huh?” Ran said, also staring engrossed at the fireworks. “Goodbye to the Kaitou Kid…”

“I guess,” Shinichi agreed, fiddling a little nervously with his cutlery. Then he took a deep breath. “Ran… I don’t know if it’s a little soon for this, but…”

“I’ve been waiting nineteen years, Shinichi,” she said softly as he stood up. It might as well have been the two of them alone in the restaurant, absorbed as the other patrons were in the light show. Shinichi grinned smiled as he knelt down, his nerves making the grin a little wild. Ran could feel tears stinging her eyes as he drew out a small box, unable to suppress a wide, if watery, grin.

“Then, Mouri Ran,” he said, opening the box, the ring inside turning different colours in the dancing fireworks. “Will you marry me?”

Ran choked out a little sob, just managing a “yes” before she broke down into something that she couldn’t decide if it was laughing or crying. Shinichi slipped the ring onto her finger before standing up, pulling her to her feet and kissing her. The sommelier, having been watching them, laughed and started clapping. A few of the other patrons noticed and started cheering with her, realizing what had just happened, and soon most of the restaurant was cheering. Ran and Shinichi barely noticed, locked together as a huge red firework exploded in the sky, spreading out in an elaborate pattern like the petals of a flower, a blue firework still raining down sparks like a blessing.

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“CONGRATULATIONS!”

“Who told them?!” Shinichi hissed as he and Ran were dragged into their classroom by their jubilant classmates, who seemed to have found some way to fit the entire year into their homeroom.

“I only told Sonoko…” Ran muttered, and then they both sighed.

“Finally!”

“Seen this coming since second grade…”

“It’s so wonderful!”

“When is it going to be?”

“Five thousand, pay up, we still have four days…”

“Wow, that ring is gorgeous!”

“Nice catch, Kudo…”

“SILENCE!” A teacher called, stepping into the room. The congratulatory crowd around Ran and Shinichi back fearfully. “Just _what_ are you all doing? Get back to your classrooms!”

“Sensei, finals are over…” Nakamichi ventured. “And Kudo and Mori-san just got engaged… do we actually have anything better to do than party?”

“Really?” the woman said, peering at Shinichi and Ran, who held up their left hands to show her their glittering rings. “Congratulations, I suppose… well, it _is_ a rather special occasion and I must admit, you only have four days until graduation anyway…”

“ _PAAAR-TAAAY! **”**_ Aizawa screamed happily, cutting off the rest of her words as somebody plugged in their iPod speakers. Shinichi caught Ran’s eye, grinned and shrugged, then turned into the back-slaps and lewd jokes of the soccer team as Ran was engulfed by squealing girls.

Sonoko had an especially wide grin. “If you’re doing it western-style, aim the bouquet at me!” she demanded.

“I would have thought you’d be a bit more depressed about Kid vanishing,” Ran teased.

Sonoko, to her surprise, shrugged. “Well, I was sad,” she admitted. “But… I could never bring myself to dump Makoto-san. He’s just so sweet, you know? He…” she flushed a little.

“Did you finally tell him how you felt?” Ran asked excitedly. Sonoko flushed a little more. “Did you… _show_ him how you felt?”

“Ran!” Sonoko squeaked. “Well… Isn’t it just romantic, though? The fair maiden’s first kiss with her true love under the showering fireworks… about the only thing more romantic is…” she pinged Ran’s ring, before both dissolved into giggles.

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“ **I can’t believe it…** ” Patrick sighed.  “ **The Kaitou Kid… _retiring?_ ”**

“ **Ain’t it great we were here for it, though?”** Jonathan said happily. “ **It’s like, a historic moment…** ”

“ **What a way to end a holiday,** ” Hannah agreed.

“ **What time’s your flight?** ” Justin asked.

“ **Aren’t you coming back to Scotland?** ” Kirtsteen asked with a frown.

“ **Are you kidding?!** ” Justin laughed. “ **This is a country where all the high-school girls wear sailor suits! I’m going _nowhere_!** ” Several female fists skelped him across the head.

“ **I’m hanging around too,** ” Angela said, not looking up from her ever-present book. “ **I got a temp job teaching English at a high school nearby… Their English teacher is going to be out for the next term due to an injury.** ”

“ **We’re flatsharing because I have a job too!** ” Rose sang. “ **I applied to a mangaka who was looking for assistants and I got the job**!”

“ **Congrats!** ” Alan said, high-fiving her. “ **Me, I’m outta here. What about you, lovebirds?** ”

“ **We’re going to travel a bit more to investigate Asian Philosophy,** ” Jonathan said. “ **For my book, you know…** ”

“ **You philosophers are lazy sods, why don’t you get a real job like the rest of us, eh?** ” Bets joked.

“ **I’m not getting a real job,** ” Sam said, making a cross with his fingers. “ **You can’t make me do real work. Eh, brother?** ”

“ **The Council of Insanity shall _never_ do real work, brother,** ” Patrick reassured him.

“ **What a holiday, eh?** ” Angela murmured, staring out of the window.

“ **Are you going to post your travel diary on Livejournal or anything?** ” Rose asked. “ **I know you always keep one.** ”

“ **I think so,** ” Angela giggled. “ **I bet it’ll make an interesting read…** ”

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_ Six months later _

“Sorry I’m late,” Heiji called, bursting into the room, where Shinichi was nervously straightening his tie in front of the mirror. “Movin’ out, ya know, takes ages ta find anythin’… ready?”

“Pretty much,” Shinichi sighed, smoothing back his hair. “I have to say, I thought you and Kazuha were going to go to the Osaka Police Academy…”

“Yeah, us too,” Heiji shrugged, “but we both got accepted ta Tokyo an’ Oyaji said it was better, so… only problem is we’re in th’ same class as Hakuba…” he laughed guiltily. “Thought Aoko was gonna go too, ta be honest…”

“I think she’s had enough of crime,” Shinichi laughed. “I think nursing will be just her thing, if she controls her temper… she and Doctor-to-be Akako ought to be a good duo…”

“Hondo’s in th’ class too,” Heiji remembered. “ ‘Parently his neechan talked him outta the CIA. His coordination’s gotten pretty good, too… gettin’ pretty popular, if ya know what I mean…”

“KUUUROOO _BAAAA_!”

“What th’—” Heiji yelped as Shinichi burst into the room in a white shirt and boxers, looking absolutely furious. He glanced from the sniggering Shinichi in front of the mirror to the new Shinichi.

“Busted, Kaito,” Saguru said dryly, wandering in after Shinichi. “For some reason, I thought it best to check all of the broom cupboards in the building…”

“I was hoping to make it at least halfway up the aisle before he woke up,” Kaito sniggered. “I’d get a bigger audience.”

“Speakin’ a’ the audience, you oughta know, Hakuba,” Heiji asked. “What the _hell_ is Koizumi-han wearin’?”

“I did tell her it looked more appropriate to a funeral than a wedding…” Saguru said, cheeks pinking slightly.

“I was thinkin’ more like some kinda _club_ …” Heiji muttered with a grin, getting himself punched in the arm by the now redder Saguru.

“I have to be out there in two minutes, you idiot!” Shinichi yelled at Kaito, ignoring the bickering tantei. “Now give me back my suit!”

“Only because it’s a special day,” Kaito said with a shrug, clicking his fingers. Two puffs of blue smoke and about ten seconds later, the black suit was back on Shinichi and Kaito was wearing his white tux (not _that_ white tux, that was gone, but he liked the color).

“This is why _you_ are not my best man,” Shinichi muttered, checking himself in the mirror.

“Yeah, but in all your agitation over that you didn’t have time to be nervous about what’s coming up, right?” Kaito said, patting his back as he strode jovially out of the room. “Oh, and Heiji, you’re gonna need these…” he flicked the wedding rings towards Heiji.

“What th’—when did he—?” Heiji yelped, patting the pocket where he’d been keeping the rings.

“Kami help Tokyo Tech,” Saguru muttered.

“Chem labs with him are going to be _so_ much fun…” Shinichi sighed, gently banging his forehead against the mirror, then flattening down the resultant damage to his hair.

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“Something old…” Aoko said, smoothing Ran’s veil.

“Something new…” Yukiko giggled, checking on the zip on the back of Ran’s dress.

“Something borrowed…” Eri said, clipping her ruby earrings into Ran’s ears.

“What’ll be yer something blue?” Kazuha asked curiously.

“Hopefully, he’s standing at the end of the aisle,” Ran giggled, a little tearfully.

“You can cry, _my_ makeup jobs are waterproof,” Yukiko reassured her, a little thickly as she was crying too.

“Well, since you’ve disregarded my endless warnings about marrying baka-tantei childhood friends…” Eri said, hugging her daughter gently, careful not to crush her dress, “Good luck… I think you two’ll be happy.”

“It worked out eventually for you, Okaa-san,” Ran laughed.

“If any one of you starts crying, we all will,” Akako declared, which wrought tearful laughs.

“Ready, Ran?” Sonoko asked, smoothing her maid-of-honour dress.

“Where are Ayumi-chan and Ai-chan? You need your bridesmaids!” Aoko said fretfully, scurrying off to look for the girls.

“This _is_ Kudo-kun’s wedding too, they’ve probably been murdered…” Sonoko muttered, to some uneasy giggles.

“Thank Kami bodies have stopped dropping wherever we go,” Ran sighed. “He’s been called out by Megure-keibu plenty of times, but he’s never there at the time of the crime anymore… either my luck is cancelling out his, or whatever Shinigami curse he was under lifted with…” she trailed off, not inclined to talk about those years of disaster, not what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life and therefore would hopefully feature no murders. Kaito’s mother, who was sitting in a wheelchair in the front row with Kaito and Aoko—she was healing well, and most of her injuries were gone aside from scars, but she was still under doctor’s orders to take it easy as possible—was testament to just how long gone it all was now.

“Oh, just a couple of photos!” Yukiko insisted, raising her camera. “Wonderful… you’re lucky, you’re naturally photogenic, Ran-chan… so many people just look _terrible_ on film. Sure you won’t try film acting?”

“I really love stage acting, though,” Ran said.

“Thank you again for putting Ran in touch with your old contacts,” Eri said, hugging Yukiko. “I can’t wait to see your debut, Ran!”

“I’m not playing a big part,” Ran said, her clearly visible. Yukiko’s makeup really was wonderful, only hints to accent rather than a thick mask of powder and blush.

“Yet,” Yukiko said with a wink. “I’m leaving a lot of my best makeup and costume materials in the house, by the way. By the time you and Shin-chan get back from your honeymoon in Hawaii, the house’ll be all yours… oh, aren’t they _cute_!” she squealed, referring to the little girls in matching red-and-pink dresses.

“We’re here, oneechan!” Ai called, dragging Ayumi by the arm. “Ready?”

“Always,” Ran said, smiling as she turned to the doors.


	90. Epilogue--Hope

_ One year later _

“Did they say what it was?” Aoko mutters with a yawn as a nurse directs them down one of the dark corridors.

“Nope,” Kaito says, reading door numbers in the dark.

 _Probably the only man in the world that can be so alert at three in the morning,_ Aoko thinks, yawning again. She estimates that she’s been up at this time for most of the past year. Ran and Shinichi’s wedding evidently set off some kind of chain reaction- first those two cops a couple of months after them, then Heiji and Kazuha a couple of months after that, then those two from the FBI (though isn’t one a teacher professionally now?) then _another_ cop and a definitely-teacher, and _another_ teacher, and of course her and Kaito… she still can’t help blushing as she twists the ring on her finger. It’s been two months and it still feels so new, but nothing has ever felt so perfect.  _I pity the kind of awakening it much have been for Ran-chan, though..._ They pause as they approach the correct hospital room, confused by the sound of muffled but strong laughter. Kaito tentatively opens the door.

“Whassup, Shinichi?” He asks.

“Hey, you’re the first ones here,” Ran says. She is grinning widely but looks exhausted. _No wonder..._

“So what’s the laughter about?” Kaito asks, closing the door behind them. Aoko rushes right past him to get a good look at the little bundle sleeping in Ran’s arms. All she can make out is a tuft of dark hair sticking out of the blanket.

“We named him Conan,” Shinichi says with a grin that makes him look even more disturbingly like Kaito than usual.

“You didn’t!” Aoko gasps in surprise, freezing.

“No, we didn’t,” Ran says, poking Shinichi in the ribs. He folds up, gasping, acting as if he’s in great pain, though despite the fact that Ran hasn’t done any karate for eight months he’s probably not hamming it up. “It’s a girl.”

“So what _is_ her name?” Kaito asks pointedly.

“Mikomi,” Ran says softly, turning the little bundle in her arms to face the adults. It strikes Aoko as looking rather like a little Ran, though there’s something about the shape of the closed eyes that seems very Shinichi.

“It means ‘Hope’,” Shinichi explains, with a gentle smile, his eyes sparkling. Aoko leans over, entranced by the little girl. Shinichi and Ran can’t take their eyes off of her either, though Shinichi seems to be keeping a suspicious eye on Kaito out of habit. Kaito sticks his tongue out in response and returns to watching Mikomi.

“Well, she can’t come to the wedding next week,” he suddenly says firmly. The three others glance at him in surprise.

“Why?” Shinichi asks sternly and not a little warily, conscious that whenever Kaito sounds serious he’s generally setting you up. Aoko can think of only twice when he wasn’t.

“Akako’s going to have a fit if you bring a girl that’ll be prettier than the bride,” Kaito chuckles, wrapping his arms around Aoko and leaning over to get a good look at the baby girl. Aoko gets a mental image, surely shared, of Akako throwing a fit halfway up the aisle.

Kogoro and Eri, the next ones to reach the delivery room, are also surprised by the sounds of laughter.

_And Mikomi opens her sea-blue eyes and looks out, ready to take wing and spread out into the world._

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing complete  
> 14:12 (O_o wow, gotta love the numerical coincidences! XD)  
> Saturday  
> August 15th  
> 2009
> 
> Edits complete  
> 16:59  
> Thursday  
> September 17th   
> 2009
> 
> Second edits complete  
> 21:49  
> Sunday  
> January 25th  
> 2015

**Author's Note:**

> By the way, even though of course I'm writing this fic in English, you can reasonably assume that most of the characters are speaking Japanese. Whenever a character is speaking English, the dialogue will be in bold.


End file.
